Sunday Afternoon: I
by Rivergirls Anthem
Summary: Post 1x11. My take on what happens when Sara finds out Michael is married. It's a story about realization, about waiting, about complications and about coming together...MiSa all the way! please review? xo, as always ! Chapter 15 is up!
1. Tell me a lie, tell me story

**A/N : Hey you guys, I'm so sorry, I know it's been ages since I published anything, but things here have been crazy and I'd been dealing with a lack of inspiration. However, for some reason my inspiration's BACK! Jeej! Now, I don't know if I ever wrote this down anywhere (probably not), but Season 1 is by far my favorite MiSa-season. Today, I was watching some of the season one clips and I realised that I've always wanted to write a story about the situation where Sara finds out about Michael's wife and her anger about it all. Michael really starts to miss her and Sara is angry... I wanted to see what happened if things'd go differently, if different words were spoken. If there wasn't some sort of silent truce but a real story. So anyway, that's what I'm starting here. **

**Please tell me if you like it and if I should continue? Please tell me? (Would it help if I tried blackmailing you by telling you today's my birthday? :) ) **

**XO, as always.**

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Michael

He said goodbye to Nika with a small kiss on her cheek and a whispered thank you. He had never touched her lips, not even once, and he would certainly not start kissing her now. The bond between the two of them existed of a mutual favor, not of friendship and certainly not of love. Still, it was the most action his lips had seen in weeks, even though not a day went by that he didn't want to kiss…

He froze the minute he saw her silhouette, broken up by the bars of the steel grid that divided them. He'd turned to Nika one last time to thank her but his eyes had seen right through the Tjech woman and rested on Sara's rigid body, observing like a petrified hawk. _Sara._ There was no way that he could ever explain this to her, but he wished that when the time came when she'd ask him about it, a part of her would understand, not even needing the words of an explanation.

Michael looked at her with something akin to an apology on his face. His feet faltered and he stood rooted to the ground. Nika smiled a last sad smile and disappeared through the gates, not even realizing what was going on inside his mind. She'd never understand Michael Scofield, and she'd given up trying to.

"Move it, Scofield." Michael hiccuped a breath. He'd forgotten all about the guard accompanying him in this particular scenario. For a few seconds, he'd even ignored being in prison. He turned to the guard, murmuring a soft 'sorry', then shifted his gaze again, but finding her gone. It was as if she'd never even been there, as if a soft breeze had swept through the hallway, making him shiver, before disappearing without a trace. Yet he knew she had been. He could tell by the way his heart constricted and the way a stinging ache pulsed through his whole being.

Sara had seen him, and would probably come to the conclusion that it was best to walk away and pretend nothing had ever happened between the two of them.

Sara

She was out of breath before she even started to run. Her heart was throbbing, throwing itself against her ribcages, trying to get out and crawl into a deep dark hole where no one, and certainly not Michael 'married' Scofield, could ever find it. Where it could silently start its healingproces and build an armor around itself, strong enough not to be touched ever again.

The doctor in her knew it was impossible, but oh, how she wanted it not to be. Leaning against the wall for support, her body folded in two. Her long hair fell in waves in front of her face, and she let it. She needed to feel sheltered for a minute. The clock ticked loudly and she tried to slow her breating to fit the pattern she knew it needed to be following.

_Breathe in. Breathe out._

_Breathe in. _She'd confront him one of these days, and she'd get it all off her chest and never think of him ever again. _Breathe out. _He'd try to charm his way out of it, but she wouldn't let him. _Breathe in._ She'd build that armor for her heart and try as he may, his engineering skills would not get it to crack. _Breathe out._ She'd conquer this. She would.

Raising herself to her normal height and wiping angry at the spaces under her eyes, she made her decision. No day but today to do it, to get it over with. She find him during afternoon PI. She'd set things straight once and for all.

Michael

The self-built device weighed heavily in the palm of his hand and he squeezed it tighter to try and lessen the burden. But it wouldn't fade. Its sides cut into his flesh and the glass nearly cracked underneath his fingertips. He would damage both the device and himself if he kept it up, and so he slowly uncurled his fingers to cup it instead of smothering.

He heared the clicking of her heels on the ground long before he realized it was her. Looking out of the corners of his eyes from his crouched position on the grass, he finally recognized her figure in the reflection the puddle provided him with. So she'd come. Now the only question that remained was the question of what she'd come to do. A little dose of hope started to flutter in his chest, but it disappeared once he saw her expression.

"So you're married…" It was no question, it was a statement. A warrior cry that erupted from inside of her, screaming at him that she was ready to fight him, despite the calm tone of the spoken words, laced with feigned surprise.

He tried to give her a smile, tried to be bold and not surrender, but she was making it hard for him. "uh, well, not in the traditional sense of the word…" It was the truth, and a desperate plea for her to try and understand that he was doing it to help. To help Nika, but most of all, to help himself. His brother. LJ.

She looked him directly in the eyes, not backing down. "Michael, we're both adults, put your cards on the table."

At his silence, she sighed heavily and visibly straightened her shoulders. Michael inwardly cringed: she'd prepared herself for this. Damn it, he knew that he disappointed her by not being straight forward, but he couldn't allow himself to be. If he told her why he had needed to marry Nika, he would also have to tell her about the creditcard that wasn't really a creditcard. About the watch that he needed to clock the guards' round. About the fact that he needed to know these things because he was breaking out, trying to save his brother's innocent life. He couldn't, so he remained silent.

"Okay," she continued, "I'll go first." She took a breath before continuing. "Uhm, as one of the very few women around here I'm used to a certain ammount of innuendo and flirtation being thrown my way." Pause. "I'm not used to enjoying it." Her tone couldn't conceal the fact that she berated herself for letting him get to her, and he knew he'd put her in a difficult position, but he couldn't let her compare him to all the other inmates who dished out one-liners and jokes to get into her pants. He wouldn't let her do it.

"Look, Sara…" he approached the gate that divided them, trying to physically ease the distance between the two of them, but he was cut off by the stern sound of her voice.

"It's Doctor Tancredi. And would you please let me.."

"No." He came closer, threading his fingers through the holes in the fence. "I know you're angry, but I will not let you compare me to other inmates who flirt with you just because you're a woman. I do NOT look at you or treat you as if you're some piece of female meat, Sara. I mean the things I say, I.." He took a breath, readying himself for a step across the line, a step into the direction of the point of no return. _Breathe in._ "I want you for you."

Sara let out a short,bitter laugh and shook her head, her long hair sweeping around her face. She only looked at him a second later and stared him down with bitterness in her eyes.

"Stop lying to me."

Sara

She marched away from the fence, feeling nothing whatsoever. She was numb after all he'd said to her, all he'd led her to believe. No more. She knew that maybe she'd cry once or twice, on a Sunday afternoon, but that would be it.

She'd fight this war. After all, she'd already won the battle.

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_Please tell me (if) you liked it? Pleaaaase? I beg yoouuuu!!!_

_XO_


	2. A few days down

**A/N : you guys, I'm so sorry it's taken me this long -- I was out of inspiration. It seems, however, that my muse has returned, since tonight, I've written 5 chapters for this story. (smiles) I really hope you haven't forgotten about this story, and that you like it. Please tell me?**

**PLEAAAAAAAAAASE?**

**XO, as always**

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Sara

Sooner or later, he was going to have to stop throwing big statements at her. Stop making those damn declaration of actually caring one bit for her, when he had a wife waiting for him outside these walls. Words didn't mean anything coming from him, the falseness of them being proven time and time again.

She wondered how he thought he could still spin them around her like a big, sticky cocoon, haunting her even though she tried to claw her way out of them, pretend they didn't stung – that they didn't even touch her armor of steel. She needed to get away from him, away from the grey stones of the penitentiary and just breathe.

Sara Tancredi needed a vacation. Desperately.

-

He looked at her with those damn blue eyes of his, unknowingly making her skin radiate with heat. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Sara still heard the aching in his voice and warned herself not to give answer to it. She did, however, feel a urge to burst his bubble.

She cleared her throat. "Uhm, no you won't." Slowly raising her head, as opposed to the snapping of his, she forced herself to give him a faked smile. "I won't be here tomorrow. Nor the day after."

He took a deep breath as if to brace himself for overstepping the line he knew had been drawn into the air seperating them.

"I know I can't be asking this…"

"then don't." A curt, sharp intervention. She knew he wouldn't heed it.

"..don't go."

She shook her head briskly, her loose hair swaying with the movement. "You don't have the right to ask anything of me, Mr. Scofield."

Michael nodded before pressing his thumb and indexfinger to his forehead. He held his breath. "Are you ever coming back?"

"Yes."

His eyes lit up and she felt the quickening of his pulse, even without her finger touching his skin. She felt the happiness surging through him and hated herself for almost smiling in return. "When?"

"We're all done here." She twisted her chair around and snapped off her gloves, the sound pulling her back onto her two feet. The next sound, the one of his feet padding across the floor, both exhilirated her and frightened her to death.

A soft whisper to her right proved her second sentiment had been the most appropriate. "Do you have a pen, doctor?"

Michael

She couldn't hide the surprise on her face, and he loved seeing her with her guard down. A smile slipped out before he could stop it. He hoped it would ease her mind and not cause yet another warning bell to ring inside the hollows of her mind.

"Sure."

He took a mental note of how careful she was not to let her fingers come in contact with his own when she handed him the pen and a piece of paper to go with it. His fingers flew across the paper scribbling down the address and a short note to the bottom.

"Here." He pressed it into her hand, closing his fingers around her own, not daring to let them go. He was going to fight for her and he wasn't going to make a big secret of it. Crouching down a little to be able to look directly into her eyes, he held her gaze for a minute, watching her eyes widen, then her eyelids droop a little in resignation. "Take me with you."

--

Sara

_Once again I am out of breath, on the verge of losing it…_

'Don't go'.

The words still rang in her mind. At that moment, she'd been strong for him – up until the moment he'd looked into her eyes, clutching her hand and asking her to 'take him with her'. After that, he'd just disappeared like the breeze, leaving her dazed and confused for the rest of the day. Even as she was packing up her clothes, she felt as if she were doing it on autopilot, randomly throwing in shirts and pairs of jeans. The occasional skirt. Sandals and her sunglasses.

She still hadn't dared to unfold the piece of paper. Afraid of what she'd find. Yet her fingers itched to grip the sides of it and draw them back.

"_Take me with you."_

Sara pressed her hand against the wall to steady herself. Closing her eyes, she pulled the note from her pocket and blindly opened it. Then opened her eyes.

_Breathe out._

An address. Veronica Donovan. The name was vaguely remeniscent. She struggled to recall where she had seen it before, before uttering a soft sigh. His attorney.

Not another wife, then.

--

The note scribbled underneath the address was hesitant yet persistent. It was as if he meant the words with all of him, but was afraid to write them down for her to see, fearing her reaction. Understandable, really.

The minute she found out how she felt about it, she'd probably be scared to death as well. His neat handwriting floated in front of her vision again and again as she reread the words.

"_Please let me know if you're okay, wherever you are._

_I'll think of you._

_Michael."_

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_Okay, so I really hope you liked this chapter? The next few chapters are better, in my point of view. It's a story about realization, about waiting, about complications and about coming together. _

_Please review? Please? I'll post the next chapter soon if you review? _

_XO, as always_


	3. Soil, Soil

**A/N : Hey everyone! So I'm back. I really hope you like this chapter, I know it's kind of short, but I promise that the plot will thicken. Also, don't be scared about the fact that Sara's staying with a male friend. You know I'm a MiSa girl through and through, huh? ^^ So, please let me know if you like it, and I promise I will update soon!**

**XO, as always**

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Sara

The minute her feet touched the foreign soil, Sara felt as if she'd made a mistake. Blinking up into the sunlight, she knew that she should be happy to be here, far away from the Chicago greyness – but she couldn't bring herself to be. The piece of paper, the smallest letter ever written, pressed against her flesh somehow, despite the fact of being neatly tucked away into her wallet.

Sara let out an amazed laugh, finding it hard to believe that she'd actually memorized the words like some…

Luggage.

She followed the stream of people exiting the plane to the luggage room, anxiously waiting for her suitcase to appear on the rubber band. She couldn't wait to get out of this room and place her feet into the ocean tide, feeling the clashing of waves against her shins. Feeling as if she were free. Free from the thoughts of him, the dampness of Fox River and the emptiness of her appartement.

He greeted her on the steps to his beach house, looking as if he'd been waiting for her for years instead of mere minutes. In the distance she heard a dog barking. Hesitantly, she walked towards him, letting his arms envelop her into a hug.

"It's been too long." His voice whispered next to her head, before his lips pressed a kiss to her cheek.

She let out a sad smile. "Hello, Bruno."

--

Michael

He looked at Veronica expectantly.

"Anything?"

She shook her head, and his heart sank again – as it had done the previous three times he'd asked her the same question. "I'm sorry, Michael."

He bit his lower lip and shook his head. "It's my own fault." His chest heaved with the slow breaths he was taking. "No one to blame but myself."

Veronica lay her hand on top of his and gave it a sisterly squeeze. "She'll realize. I know she will. " She looked as if she was about to say something, then thought better of it and shook her head almost unnoticeably when retracting her hand.

"What?"

Veronica sighed. She should have known that Michael would notice, despite her best efforts to hide her concerns. "It's nothing, it's just." She took a breath, then leaned in closer towards him. "Michael, is she a part of this insane plan of yours having something to do with your brother?"

Michael turned towards the windows in the visitation room, trying to find subtle rays of sunshine through the condensation that had gathered on the glass. "At first, yes. But now…" His voice trailed off.

"Alright." She stood up as the whistle signaling the end of visitation sounded and gave Michael a short hug. "I'll be back. Maybe tomorrow…"

He nodded. _Maybe tomorrow, she'd let him know._

Sara

The rattling of the camera startled her long enough to let go of the rope. The yellow labrador immediately ran off, dropping the rope a few feet away and letting out a victory bark. Sara smiled, then turned towards the culprit with a reprimanding look.

"You made me lose." She shouted over to him before walking into his direction. "I'll have you know that I _was_ winning this round."

He grinned. "I couldn't let the moment slip away. I mean, look at this.." He triumphantically showed her the picture on his digital screen, happy as a kid at christmas. "It's beautiful, Sara."

She had to give him that. "It's gorgeous. Could you make me a copy?"

"Of course, madam." He retreated back to the house, before her voice stopped him.

"Actually…make that two."

She looked at the ocean, searching for a calmness she knew she wouldn't find. A wave of memories had hit her once again and she tried to swallow it down, but it wouldn't fade. Picking up her glass of Iced Tea, she tried in vain to make it disappear. She knew she didn't need to, but some part of her felt as if she owed it to Michael to send him a sign of life. Nothing much.

The picture. One line. Her name.

Not one mention of her specific location or her current companion. A part of her wanted to…she didn't know what she wanted. She couldn't even decide if she was happy right now. Apart from the rare moments spent with the yellow lab, she'd always been around Bruno. Bruno, the man she'd met when building the orphanage in India. He had been a volunteer, same as her, and they'd relied on eachother a lot back then.

She didn't know why she'd chosen to spend her only vacation in years with him, here. But nevertheless, she was. She'd gone with her gut and her knowledge of the fact that he was one of her few friends.

Buster was still wagging his tail on the yellow sand and in a spur of spontaneity, she ran back towards him and met his greeting lick with a real, free, laugh that could be heard above the crashing of the waves nearing them.

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_Please tell me if you liked it? Please? I'll post the next chapter soon if you do, I promise. _

_XO, as always..._


	4. Call me, anything but lonely

**A/N : Guys, I'm back with another chapter. I'll try to update every day, or every two days, so we can get to the point where it gets interesting. (Even though I secretly hope that you like these chapters too). Please let me know?**

**XO, as always**

* * *

Michael

She'd nearly been gone for a week, and nothing. Veronica had given up on coming every day because she hated seeing his disappointed face every time she told him Sara still hadn't written, called or shown her face. He'd wanted to ask her to stay away as well, but hadn't dared to, scared it would hurt her feelings.

He loved Vee like a sister, but not hearing from Sara ate away at him. He drummed his fingers on his chest. He'd never known he could ache for someone this much. Not being near her was slowly killing him, making him lose focus on the execution of the plan. He was forgetting things and the guys were getting restless, watching him break down. He knew that he owed it to Lincoln to concentrate, to give his everything to get him out of Fox River and away from the chair, but he couldn't help but feel…

"Mike." Sucre leaned over the side of the bed and searched his cellmate's face in the dark. "Stop thinking so loud, Papi. You're distracting me."

A lopsided grin appeared on Michael's face. "I'm sorry. I have a lot on my mind, I guess."

Sucre tapped his fingers melodiously against the iron pipes. "Still thinking about Sara, huh?"

He nodded, closing his eyes to summon the sight of her to this insides of his eyelids. "Still thinking about Sara."

The puerto rican leaned over as far as he could to touch the tips of his fingers to Michael's shoulder. "She'll be back, okay? Just… have a little faith."

Michael smiled sadly. "Yeah. Faith."

--

On the 11th day, Veronica sat at the table in the visitation room. The second his eyes found her and took note of her reassuring smile, he finally felt as if he were able to breathe again. His step quickened and he impatiently waited for the guard to remove the shackles on his wrists.

"Please tell me you know something."

Veronica waited for the guard to distance himself with a curt nod before turning to the younger man. "When I got home yesterday, there was a letter in the mail." She took a breath before continuing, hoping the news wouldn't hit him too hard. "Michael, there's good news and bad news."

He swallowed but was silent, waiting for her to continue. "The good news is that she's okay… the bad news is that she's in Europe."

He tilted his head to the side and blinked in confusion or sadness, she couldn't figure out which. "Europe?"

"Portugal to be exact. The stamp indicated a small village near the coast." She retrieved the envelope from her pocket and lay it on the tabletop, watching Michael's eyes widen at the sight of it. His fingers reached for it and she could barely see the little indication to his nervousness : his hands were shaking, almost unnoticeably.

"Portugal." He murmured. "A village called Porches." He slowly took out the insides of the envelope and let out a sad smile when he saw the picture of her playing with a large labrador on the beach, the silhouettes surrounded by the warm glow of the setting sun, he bare feet seemingly floating on the yellow sand. He could almost hear the crashing of the waves in the background and wished he could have been there beside her.

Flipping the picture over, his eyes curiously and hurriedly drifted over the few lines she'd written.

_Veronica & M, _

_I'm fine. Visiting a friend. This place is gorgeous._

_Sending you the warmth of the evening sun._

_Sara_

No indication as to when she'd be back. No indication that she missed him or even thought about him. The small 'M' indicating his name tore at his heart. He knew she wrote the initial as a safety precaution, but nevertheless… He wanted her to be able to shout his name. He wanted her to want to.

He looked at the picture one more, before carefully placing it into the envelop and sliding it underneath the table and into his sock. He looked at Veronica. "I'm keeping this, if you don't mind."

She shook her head enthusiastically before lowering her voice a notch or two. "She'll be back, Michael."

His gaze was blank apart from the evident gratitude. "Thank you, Veronica."

His surrogate sister pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'll be back when I get any more news."

--

Sara

Her fingers hovered in the air over the numbers. She'd wanted to do this ever since she'd sent the letter but had never dared to. For some reason… last night had been particularly hard – she hadn't seen Michael in nearly two weeks and it was beginning to weigh on her.

She needed to know if he was doing okay, if the other inmates were hassling him – if he still had all eight toes… She needed to know if he thought about her.

"Who are you trying so hard to call?" His voice sounded scarily close and she jumped. Her hand immediately travelled to her pounding heart, trying to ease it.

She smiled up at Bruno. "A friend."

He sniggered. "Need any help dialing?"

Sara laughed. "I think I'll be fine, thanks."

He shrugged, his dark brown eyes gazing at her kindly. "You know where to find me…"

"Thanks."

She punched in the numbers and waited for person on the other end to pick up. When she heard a soft 'hello', she immediately went in for the plunge.

"Veronica? It's Sara Tancredi…"

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_So, please tell me if you liked it? I know the chapters are kind of short, but I promise that the next chapter will have a better pace. It's just.. I always just let my mind lead me, and right now it's leading me on a very slow path. Well, that's not true. I've written about 7 chapters to this story, and in the next chapter the pace will pick up. Promise._

_Please review?_

_XO, as always_


	5. Meet me at my window

**A/N : Hey everyone, I'm back with another chapter! I really really hope you like it. The chapter's longer than the previous ones, and deals with something important to the rest of the story. Anyway, I'll leave you to it.**

**Please review? Please?**

**Xo, as always**

**

* * *

**

Sara

"_Sara. I was wondering if you were going to call."_

Her breath caught."How's that?"

"_Uhm.. how can I explain this in the best way…"_ She paused, slowly torturing Sara, _"I mean, and tell me if I'm crossing the line here, but, calling was the only way you'd be able to get to hear about how Michael was doing, and it shows at least that you want to know."_

"So how is he…doing?" Somehow she feared the answer, knowing that if the answer were the one she wanted to hear, she'd probably jump on the first plane available and return back home.

"He's…coping. I really can't find a better word to describe it, I'm sorry. He's…he asked me to visit him every day the very first week you left, but after a while – I just couldn't bare seeing the disappointment on his face when he heard that I'd gotten no word from you. And when that picture arrived..Sara, I'm hoping you don't mind, but he couldn't just give it back to me."

"_he kept it."_

She envisioned him in prison looking at the picture of her on the beach, trailing her silhouette with his fingertips before pressing the picture against his chest, wishing to see her again. "He kept it?"

"_I think he really misses you, Sara. I've known Michael all my life, but I've never seen him like this. Whatever happened between the two of you, I can tell that Michael really cares for you."_

"He's married, did he tell you that?" She bit her lip to keep the hurt at bay. Married. The word haunted her ever since the conjugal room.

"Sara, I know that he married Nika to get her a Green Card and that there's…some kind of favor…she owes him as well. I think that's why she visited him in prison."

Realization dawned on Sara, and she couldn't keep from gasping. "You know, don't you? Why he keeps lying to me?"

Veronica took a deep breath. _"I have some ideas…but none of them seem to make sense. All I know is that if he __is__ lying to you, it's because he either wants to protect you or because he has no other choice.I know Michael can be mysterious, but there's usually a reason for all the mystery."_

"It's just hard to believe the truth when I've uncovered so many lies. I don't know what to believe anymore." She ran a tired hand over her face, making the last line sound muffled, but she knew Veronica had understood.

"_I think deep down you know when he's not lying to you. Just feel it. You can tell."_

She did. She felt it. She also felt that it was time to change the subject. "Uhm, anyway. Could you not tell him that I called? I don't want to…something." She let out a nervous laugh.

"_It's going to be hard keeping it from him. It's a big thing, you asking this."_

"I promise I'll send him another card in the next week. I'll be back soon. I promise that someday I'll tell him I called you tonight. But the hurt is too raw, Veronica." She exhaled slowly. "Please understand."

"_Are you doing okay, Sara?"_ Her voice was soft, and it almost made her want to cry. It had been a while since anyone had really asked her how she was doing, and she honestly didn't know how to answer the question.

"I don't know." She truthfully said. "I'm staying at my friend's house and there are moments that I truly believe I made a right choice coming here. But sometimes I just… I keep seeing the image of him and his wife and it just…" she shook her head to try and clear it.

"_It hurts."_

She nodded, knowing full well that Veronica couldn't see her, but also knowing that she understood. " But enough about me. How are _you_ doing, Veronica?"

They spent 2 hours on the phone. She felt as if she could really talk to Veronica. Like there was an unspoken bond between the two of them. Their common concern for Michael might have something to do with that, but she felt as if it were something more. She liked it.

--

The next day, she went for an early walk towards the lovers' windows, worn out rocks in the shapes of small windows, and rested on the ledge. She swung her legs over the side of it and felt truly at ease, breathing in the warm morning air. The ocean lapped at the rocks below and its rhythm soothed her very being. She only wish that there was someone else with her.

It was that thought that remained in her head, even as she felt herself lose her balance and fall into the emptiness.

Michael

Veronica was sitting across from him again, per her own request, to talk about Lincoln's case and give him an update on where she stood with the case. He was feeling more confident by the minute as she told him of her progress, of the Washington phonecall and of Nick Savrinn helping her as much as possible, when the were both startled by the ringing of her cellphone.

He saw Veronica blink in confusion at the 'unidentified' number on her caller ID and hesitantly pick up with a soft 'Hello?'.

Veronica

"_Veronica Donovan?"_ A male voice called out to her and immediately fear gripped her heart. The bloodhounds were behind her too, now, and she trusted no one.

"This is she."

"_My name is Bruno, Sara Tancredi has been staying with me for a few weeks now,…" _It was only then that she distinguished the tiredness and concern in his voice. She wondered why she hadn't picked it up at the very first sound he uttured. It was clear as day.

"Is she alright?" The fear turned to malaise, to a terrible feeling in her gut. Something was wrong.

"_She's been… She's been in an accident?"_ He voiced it as a question, not really believing it himself.

"God…" Veronica clasped a hand over her mouth, trying to… do anything but believe the worst. She couldn't, however, keep the small tear from rolling down her cheek. She knew that she hadn't known Sara a long time, but somehow felt a deep bond between them. "What happened? Is she alright?"

"_She…fell? She was walking by the Lovers' windows and she lost her balance. She fell down and she…she hit her head. Broke her leg. She's in surgery now." _He hiccuped the last sentences and Veronica felt her troat constrict. Sara…

She listened to him explain that the doctor said that her chances were good, that she would most likely completely recover, but that the surgery should have been finished over 10 minutes ago and that he still hadn't received any news.

Next, she heard herself say the words even before she thought them. "I'm coming over. I'll need your address."

After getting his address and personal information, she hung up the phone, not yet prepared for the biggest task yet : telling Michael.

* * *

_Okay, so what did you think? Please tell me, and I promise I'll update soon!_

_XO_


	6. I miss you

**A/N : Hey y'all! Back again, with another chapter. I really really hope you like it... Please let me know?**

**XO, as always, and an extra X for 228. Thank you so much for everything.**

* * *

Veronica

He looked at her with his trusting eyes filled with concern for her. For _her._ He had no idea who the call she'd gotten was about. She didn't even know how to tell him.

"Are you okay?"

"Michael…" she began, her voice sounding more insecure than it ever had, "the call." She trailed off, her voice faltering and her hands shaking. "It's Sara, Michael."

Michael

_It's Sara, Michael._

The words fell into his mind like the swift strike of a sword. He felt as if he couldn't… couldn't…

He felt numb as he listened to her explain how Sara had fallen from a rock formation, hit her head after a short dive and broken her leg to top it off. Hear her tell him how the yellow lab had trailed her and ran towards its owner to warn him. How a helicopter had arrived to take her to the hospital, where they…

"I'm sorry…" He stumbled to get upright. "I can't…"

"Michael," she lay her hand upon his arm to steady him. "I'm going over there right away, okay? I'll be with her."

He swallowed. "I can't even…" _Be with her._ I can't even be with her. He'd never felt so helpless, not even when his brother was sentenced to death. Because at that time, he was on the outside, he could plan – he could plan. Planning would do him no good now, it wouldn't bring her closer. "Tell her…"

"Do you have a pen, Vee?"

--

Everything felt surreal that day. From the moment he had heard about what happened to the time when he told Sucre what had happened, to the moment when the guard called for the lights to go out and he looked up at her picture, threaded between the springs of Sucre's top bunk. He took it out and pressed it close to his chest, hoping to protect her even in the smallest bit, knowing it was too late anyway.

A sad smile slipped out of the corners of his mouth. _She was so beautiful_.

The day of the escape was nearing. He'd get to her somehow.

--

He dreamt of her in shades of gray that night. Saw her auburn hair fall across the pale white pillow as a shadow upon the ground. His eyes swept over her face and even in his dream he felt like crying as he saw the scrapes on her cheek. Walking over to her, he sat by her bedside and took her hand in his, aching to feel her.

He couldn't. Not even here, in this fantasyworld where anything should be possible. His hand went right through hers, clawing at mere air. An unfelt tear spilled out of his eye, unwilling to stop rolling even in this unreal place. His lips found their way to the bandages on her head and kissed the air above it, blowing warmth upon her skin.

She opened her eyes. Looked right into his.

A soft whisper.

"Hi."

--

The next day, he worked on the escape with a new found purpose. Not only would getting over these walls save his brother, it would also give him the possibility to get to her. It was as if a demon had possessed him, as if he had made a pact with a high power to grant him extra speed, extra strength and a double dose of life force.

Veronica would have landed by now. She had, after leaving him dazed and confused, booked the first plane to Portugal and packed in a frenzy. He wondered how she could be so emotional about a woman she knew nothing about. Whatever the reason, he was glad she had made the decision. She had promised him that when he called her, she'd pick up and see if there was any way he could…

It was nearly noon, almost ready for lunch, followed by half an hour yard time. Michael quickly did the math in his head. He'd call her around 1 PM, 7 PM Portugal time. He pressed the palm of his hand against his knee. He hated not knowing how she was doing, not knowing whether she was going to be okay.

"She'll be okay, Michael." Michael turned his head to where the sound was coming from, and was met with the sight of Sucre leaning on his shovel and looking at him with reassuring eyes.

"Who?"

That was Lincoln. For some reason or the other, Michael hadn't told him anything about Sara. Not about him and Sara, not about her disappearance to the other side of the world and not about her accident. He didn't know why he hadn't.

He guessed that he was afraid of how his brother would react. Afraid that he'd only see Sara in the light of her initial part in the plan. He was afraid that Lincoln wouldn't see her the way he did.

Sucre understood.

Besides, telling Lincoln about Sara would also mean telling Lincoln that Veronica had been visiting him on a frequent basis and was now travelling to Portugal because he couldn't. Veronica was a sore subject with Lincoln. He still loved her more than he would ever love anyone else and the fact that they weren't together, Michael knew, was killing him.

"Westmoreland's daughter."

It was a lie. A lie that would hurt his brother when he would find out.

"_Stop lying to me."_

Her voice cut through his mind. Her voice filled with so much venom and hurt. He exhaled heavily.

Charles' head turned his way with a quizical expression. "What's that about my daughter, Scofield?"

"Nothing.." He ran a hand over his head. "Just that, I know we'll make it to her in time. That's all."

_I'll make it to her in time. _He wondered if he could. Wondered if he could just turn up in Portugal and have her be happy to have him with her, and not angry with him for breaking out or disappointed because he was…

He shook his head. She just needed to get better.

--

"Veronica?"

He leaned against the public telephone, the cold making his bare hands clam up. His breath came out in little clouds and knowing that she was bathing in warmth didn't make the situation any more pleasant. Nor was the fact that she was in Portugal, where he should have been.

"Michael. I've been to the hospital earlier. Sara was asleep so I didn't dare wake her. But I sat with her a while, talked to her friend and he said the doctors told him she was going to be alright."

An ache shot through his body, that didn't have anything to do with the cold. "_He_, huh?"

He heard her voice turn hesitant, knowing that she had uncovered something it would have been best if he knew nothing about. _"Yes, Michael. He. He's a good friend of Sara's, they met in India when they were working together. No need to get all worked up."_

"_Anyway."_ She continued. _"I'm going back over there in a few minutes, but I'm sure you want her room number? You could call her, Michael."_

"I don't know what to tell her. The last time we spoke, she was.."

"She's been in an accident, Michael. I'm sure that whatever happened between you two, can be forgotten for a minute or two. I think she needs you."

He wondered if she did. After memorizing the number Veronica recited to him, he hung up and stood there for a few minutes, deciding whether or not to punch it in.

His fingers trembled as he finally did. He could barely understand the digital voice telling him he had 8 minutes of calling left over the sound of his heart wildly hammering against his chest, but he did hear her voice as she answered the phone.

"_Hello?"_

"Sara, it's uh…it's me." His voice shook and could have hit himself over the head for sounding like such a scared, insecure little boy. He could have, but the mere fact that he heard her voice answering him, was enough to make all of it seem irrelevant.

_"Michael..Hi."_

* * *

_Okay, so what did you think? Please tell me you liked it? Please review?_

_XO, as always_


	7. Everything's falling

**A/N : Hey everybody, I'm back again with another chapter. I'm so sorry it took me so long to upload it this time. **

**Anyway, I really hope you like it. This one is Sara's POV all the way. Before you ask, yes, she's okay. The accident was scary, but she's _fine. _**

**Please review? Gimme some Christmas loving? I'll try to upload another chapter before Christmas, but in case I don't...well...**

**Xo, as always**

* * *

Sara

Her head was pounding and everything about her was feeling heavy and hurt. Still she heard the doctors talking to eachother in fluent Portuguese and felt helpless not knowing what they were saying.

She knew they were doctors by the way they had pressed they fingertips to her ribcage and lightly searched for her pulse. Her pulse. She knew she was alive, but didn't know what had happened, or any clue as to what she was supposed to be feeling. She was tired. She was thinking of him.

Thinking of how warm his fingers had felt on her bare skin, tenderly touching her hand without being too much. So unlike these strange men, in a strange land, in the slow rising of heat on the rockformation.

She tried to open her eyes but found that she couldn't. Nothing was responding to her brain's commands and she felt a tear welling up. She couldn't cry.

She was floating. Strong hands lifted her upwards and pulled her on a stretcher, the sound of a helicopter pushing against her eardrums. It all felt so surreal, and she wondered if all her patients had felt like this when they'd gotten hurt. If their thoughts had kept on rushing through their brain, or if all they could think of was the pain.

Strong. The pain was scaring her beyond belief, but she knew she had to be strong. It was all about being centered, even in the midst of chaos. If you could be strong when the tidal wave was crashing down on you, then you would survive the flood it brought.

She let herself slip into oblivion, trusting the medics to keep her safe. The final thing she heard before everything fell away from her, was the wailing of a dog.

--

Someone had come into the room. The air shifted and a vibrance had come into it that hadn't been there before. Soft fingers touched the back of her hand before curling around her fingers and giving them a squeeze. A woman's hand. A hand that cared for her.

She should have opened her eyes, should have had the strength of will to look, but she couldn't bring herself to. It was only after the woman had left that her eyelids fluttered open. She blinked to bring focus to her vision. The sharpness of the colors soon faded to normal and she slowly rolled her head to get it out of its almost forced position.

The room was actually quite nice, despite that fact that it was located in a hospital. Its walls were of a soft yellow and the curtains the color of the setting sun. They had opened a small window and a light breeze swept through the room, making the curtains dance. A vase filled with wild flowers stood on the small table to the corner, one chair propped up in a corner, a jacket neatly folded over it's back, a discared newspaper to the ground.

Next to her bed there was a small cabinet with a can of water, a glass and an origami flower sitting next to it. Sara reached out to touch it and eventually managed to pick it up. Her indexfinger followed its folds and rested on the words '_I'm sorry'_, neatly written on one of the white petals.

A tear fell out of the corner of her eye, quickly followed by a sob that brought hurt beyond compare. She willed herself to calm down and think rationally. Michael obviously couldn't be here, even though she had momentarily been convinced that he was, but she knew that the flower was his.

A woman's hand. Veronica.

"You're awake." Bruno walked into the room, his relieved smile bringing her back to the here and now.

She looked at him. "What happened, Bruno?"

As he explained to her that she had fallen down from the rocks and hit her head and that the surgery had gone well and that Veronica had been there only minutes ago, his hand travelled towards hers and threaded their fingers together.

It felt surreal. Lying in the hospital, having her friend hold her hand as a lover would while clutching the paper flower into her other, knowing that even though she liked Bruno as friend, she was longing for another hand, another man, and prison walls to keep her safe.

"I'm sorry about making you worry."

He waved her apology away. "It's my job to worry about you." He looked at her in a way that she had seen on his face before, but now there was no mistaking it. _Oh God, not this. Not now._

A soft knock of salvation was heard on the door and after an equally soft 'yes', it opened and a woman stepped through it. She had black hair that fell to her shoulders and wore a scruffled look that could only come from travelling.

"Veronica…" Sara half-sighed the name and felt her tears building as her new friend walked over to the other side of the bed and pressed a kiss to Sara's battered cheek, making her close her eyes in contentment of having Veronica here. She then pulled up the chair and sat down.

Her eyes immediately travelled to the hand Bruno wasn't clutching and she smiled widely. "I see you got my present."

Sara looked down and let out a soft chuckle. "I did. And it's beautiful." Looking over at Bruno, she searched for a polite way to ask him to leave them, but she found out she didn't need to. He only nodded and murmured an excuse, finally letting go of her hand before walking out the door.

Sara turned to Veronica again. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too."

Sara scooted over in her bed and patted the emptied side. Veronica let out a little laugh and happily took the place. "I was so worried about you, Sara."

"I'm okay now."

"I know. I wasn't the only one glad to hear the news." She tilted her head slightly to the left with a small smile playing on her lips.

"So," Sara took a deep breath, "He knows what happened?"

"He knows. I was with him when I got the call. He was so…disoriented. He didn't know what to do with himself. But he called me earlier, and I told him you were going to be just _fine_, and then I gave him the number to that phone right there." She ended, her voice rising with enthusiasm.

"In case he hasn't called yet, that's probably because he's scared as hell to talk to you." She grinned. "I don't see how you're all that scary."

Sara laughed. "I don't…"

Her voice faltered when a shrill sound rang throughout the room, piercing the calmness. "It's him." Her hand trembled when she reached for the phone and she vaguely saw Veronica motion that she was going outside for a moment.

She took a breath. "Hello?"

"_Sara, it's uh..it's me."_

"Michael…Hi."

* * *

_O, Pleaaaase tell me you liked it? Pleaaase?_

_XO, as always._


	8. Your eyes

**A/N: hey guys! Ok, I am so sorry that it has been this long, but I am currently in the middle of january exams and it's been crazy! Anyway, I finally found the time to update this story. I want to thank you all once again for all the reviewing you've been doing, it really meant the world to me and spurred me on to write some more.**

**Anyway, I really hope you like it. Please let me know and review? Pretty please? I need some review-loving ... ^^**

**Xo, as always**

* * *

Sara

His voice sounded pained and fragile and it made her heart ache even more than it had before. She wanted to be near him, wanted to be able to feel him close to her amidst this warmth, instead of knowing that he was out there in Chicago, standing outside in the cold, leaning against the booth and freezing.

"_I'm sorry. Are you okay?"_ The sentences were rushed together and she didn't know what exactly he was sorry for, but decided to accept the apology anyway. She could tell that he was worried about her, as Veronica had said.

"I'm okay. My head is pounding and my body feels sore, but I'm okay. It's beautiful out here, even in this very room. I'll be fine."

"_When I heard about what happened,… I was…I was worried about you."_

"I know you were. I'm sorry." She let out a content sigh. "It's uhm..it's good to hear your voice, Michael. I'm glad you called."

"_I'm glad I called, too. So, Europe, huh? "_

"I'm sorry I went away." She meant it. Even though she had needed to run away from him, with the clear intent of emptying her head of everything Michael-related, she was still sorry.

"_I ran you off, didn't I? I'm to blame. For everything."_ He hurt. He blamed himself more than anything else, she could hear it now. But he wasn't going to take this burden on his shoulders, too. With the predators Fox River housed and his brother sheduled to die, he already had enough to deal with.

"If you think that you're in any way to blame for the accident this morning, then you're an idiot, Michael Scofield."

"_Is that so?"_ A smile. She could hear him smiling, and it felt great. She couldn't deny any longer that they could make eachother happy, and that given a chance and putting their, and especially her, stubborness aside…

"It certainly is. I wasn't careful enough, this morning. I was…thinking. Another sign that thinking can get you into trouble."

"_Then, uh, I think you should stop thinking for a while."_ He let out a laugh. _"You're in Portugal for God's sake, you should be relaxing. I'm doing enough thinking for the both of us."_

"I think relaxing is going to be on the menu for a long time now." She turned serious all of a sudden. "I was going to come back next week."

_"But now you can't."_

"I don't know." She didn't try to hide the disappointment. She wanted him to know that she wanted to come home, wanted to see him again. Which reminded her… "Have you been getting your insulin shots?"

He laughed. _"Yes, doctor. Katie has been very…helpful." _He paused. _"But she's just not you."_

Sara could feel the butterflies fluttering inside of her belly and she loved it. If he could make her feel like this by just calling her, she wondered how his other actions might affect her. When he said her name…

"_You're not missing much, I promise."_

"I'm missing you." She'd spoken the words out loud before she even realised what had happened. "Damn it." She let out a half sigh, half laugh. "I didn't mean to say that. I mean, I did mean it, but saying it is…"

"_I'm glad you did. But I have to go. I promise I'll call you tomorrow. "_

"I'd like that."

"_Okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow then. Please be safe."_

"I promise not to go rockformationdiving any time soon."

"_You better not. Doctor's orders."_

"Oh really now?" She grinned. "I guess I'll just have to listen to you then. I'll talk to you soon, Michael. But if I don't answer the phone on the first ring, don't worry. I'll probably have discovered some other life threatening sensation." She let out a small laugh before disconneting, and spent the rest of the day with a smile on her face.

-

Veronica had come back in again and sat with her a while. The minute she entered the room, she had seen the giddy expression on Sara's face and chuckled. "That good, huh?"

"That good."

-

He didn't call her the next day. She had been anxious to hear his voice again and had not dared to leave the room even for a second, afraid to even go to the bathroom. She had stayed in her bed the entire time and had called in backup to guard the phone while she went.

He didn't call.

Her heart ached. Tears ran down her face when she went to sleep that night. Tears, once again Michael – induced. She didn't know what to think anymore. It was clear that he at least cared whether she lived or died, that he was worried about something happening to her, but then…

Why was he still lying to her? Making promises he couldn't keep?

Her head was screaming at her, telling her that this was just another typical sign of Michael Scofield's behaviour. _Maybe today, he'll take the time to call his wife._ _Remember her, Sara?_

Veronica had stroked her hair just before she had left. "He cares about you, Sara. I'm sure there's a decent explanation for all of this. I can't imagine him not calling you out of his own volition."

There hadn't been a tremor of doubt in her voice and Sara knew she should trust Veronica. She knew she should.

-

Michael

He stare towards the uneven wall in front of him. It wasn't smooth, the way the walls of his own cell were, but there was a certain roughness to them. A structure of a million grains of sand fixated on a hard wall, slowly turning to stone as the years passed, here in this small space where time did not seem to pass other than entering of the faint light in the morning, its disappearance at night.

He hadn't been able to call her – the guards had gotten to him long before he could. He didn't know how long they would keep him. In his mind's eye, he saw her lying in the hospital bed, her glazed over eyes looking at the phone every now and then. Wondering why he kept on letting her down, time and time again.

Would she figure it out? Think the worst of him? He scraped his cheek against the hardened grains of sand and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He had no way of getting to her, and regretted not telling her he missed her too the last time they had spoke. The words now burned on his tongue, seemed to heat up his lips and make his hands tremble.

He had wanted to wait and see where the days would take them. He hadn't wanted to scare her.

He should have.

* * *

_Please, o pleaaaase tell me what you think? Please? _

_XO, as always_


	9. The engagement ring

**A/N : Hey y'all! Okay, so - lots happening in this chapter... I don't know, I kind of thought that it was time for her to know.. Well, I only thought that after I had written it. (smiles). Anyway, I really really really hope you like it!**

**Don't know when the next chapter will be up, since I have big big big exams coming along shortly.**

**Please tell me if you like it? Please review?**

**XO, as always**

* * *

Sara

The days went by slowly, their length even growing by the absence of his voice. He still hadn't called her, and she was starting to wonder whether she should be furious or scared. She slowly reached for the phone and stared at it dreamily, before she was shaken by the barking of a dog nearby.

Very nearby. Her door was pushed open slowly and she watched with wonder as Buster easily trotted into the room and jumped on her bed. She let out a soft laugh and let her fingers stroke his beautiful, happy face, before tapping his nose and kissing his ears.

"I know it's not really protocol," Bruno's voice shook her. Strangely as it sounded, she had half expected the dog to get in on his own. "But he was wailing so loud the neighbours started to complain."

Sara frowned. "You don't have any neighbours."

He grinned. "Yes, I do – they're about 2 miles from where I live. Imagine the wailing."

She smiled. "Is that right, buddy? You missed me?" The bog let out a soft crying sound and Sara pulled him close, feeling him curl up to her, his head resting on her somewhat – bruised leg. She didn't mind it one bit. She'd missed the dog as well.

"He's not the only one who missed you, you know.." _Ah, Bruno…_She had been fearing this. Fearing it ever since the day when he had held her hand that way, looking at her with _those _eyes.

Yet she decided to keep it light. Let him say what he wanted to say, without telling him that she had a feeling about what was going on in his mind.

"Thanks, Bruno."

"Sara…" He pulled the chair up beside the bed, the screeching causing Buster's head to raise the slightest bit and his ears to pop up. She immediately set the pup at ease. "I have been thinking about this a lot, and I kept on wondering whether or not to tell you, but – that day at the rocks, when I got the call and realized I had almost lost you… I couldn't…" He took a deep breath. "I couldn't deal with it, I – I never want to go through that again. So I'm going to come out and say it : I love you, Sara. And I don't just mean like a sister."

"I'm _IN _love with you, Sara Tancredi. And I want to be with you. I'd be willing to move to America if that's what you want me to – I'll go anywhere with you, wherever the four winds blow – as long as we're together. I promise you that I'll take care of you. I'm a man of my word and when I tell you that I'll love you like no one has ever loved you, I mean it. The whole package deal, Tancredi. What do you say?"

He pulled a little velvet box out of his pocket and opened it for her to see. A small ring sat in it, a little diamond sparkling, the reflection making her eyes shine with stars.

She was shellshocked, despite the fact that on some level she had known this would happen…His words were…sweet, kind and caring. Promising. She had no doubt that he would be good to her – he would do everything he promised to and she would be safe.

He was smiling. Bruno had always had a very enticing smile that could disarm even the darkest mood, even the saddest tear. He loved her and he would be there for her, always. Maybe she should feel deliriously happy, undeserving of this kind of love – but there was something holding her back. Someone.

"Bruno, I…" Her heart broke a little more when she saw his smile disappearing, knowing that she was the cause of it. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I do love you, like a brother, like a friend. You've been so good to me, and honestly, I wish I could say yes. I wish I could – but I can't."

Sara reached out to touch his hand, and laid her fingers on his own. "I can't…" she told him. "I'm sorry."

He grimaced. "Can I ask why?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" She feared his response, hoping he would shake his head. When he nodded, she gathered herself together and spoke. "I'm so sorry…but I'm in love with someone else."

He nodded in acceptance. "Where is he now?"

Sara smiled sadly. "That's the thing –" she voted against telling him Michael was in prison, for now at least, "logic says we can't be together. Logic says we shouldn't be."

"The heart does things for reasons reason cannot understand." He amended. "Does he love you?"

She turned to look out of the window. "I'm not sure." _Don't cry. Don't cry._ "I'm still sort of figuring that out myself."

He stood abruptly, the chair almost thrown back by the speed of it. "If he doesn't, then I'm sorry. And I'll be here."

"Will you still come to visit?"

"I don't know, Sara.."

"If you still want to…" she continued, "I'll still be here until tomorrow. I love you, Bruno, I really do – just not the way you want me to. I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "The heart wants what it wants. Come on, Buster…"

The dog raised its head weakly then let it drop back, having moved from her leg to her belly, and looked up at her. "Buster," she whispered…

"It's okay, Sara." Bruno looked at her and smiled. "Keep him. I've never seen him so happy as when he was with you, or miserable when you were gone. That dog loves you to death. Just… take care of him, okay." He walked over to the dog, patted him gently and whispered his goodbye.

"Oh," he poked his head back into the room. "And make the nurses walk him today, okay? It smells good in here – let's keep it that way…"

"Thank you, Bruno. I really don't deserve you."

"Ah," he grinned playfully. "Excuses, excuses,…Be safe, Sara."

-

"He did WHAT?" Veronica screeched so loud that Buster let out a defensive bark.

"He proposed."

"And you…"

"…told him I was in love with someone else." She shook her head. "Someone who keeps on lying to me, making promises he can't keep and – oh, right, – is in PRISON, which makes the chances of having a relationship impossible!"

"Don't freak out." Veronica bit her lip anxiously. "Promise me you won't freak out. Just… take a breath before I tell you."

Sara impatiently did as told, curtly inhaling and exhaling, making Veronica smile. "Ok, take a deep, calm breath."

"I'm ready. Why is he lying to me?"

"I told you that Lincoln's innocent, right?" Sara nodded, so Veronica continued. "My guess is that Michael is trying to get him out. I think they're going to escape, Sara."

Her hand flew to her eyes, covering them and just letting the self-inflicted darkness envelop her, while taking in her friend's words. "I should have expected something like this." Her chest constricted and she felt as if she wasn't able to breathe. _Breathe in. Breathe out._

"Michael loves Lincoln so much, Sara – and I don't think that knowing what we know now, he could just stand by and let him die, knowing that he could have done something. Lincoln called him that night and Michael just let the anwering machine get it… You know how he can get when he feels guilty, it claws away at him, drags him down…"

"Sometimes I can't even be sure if I know him at all."

"You do, Sara. You do know him."

"Then _WHY _isn't that phone ringing?" For the first time, she allowed herself to break down in front of Veronica, feeling the waves of anger and sadness roll through her. "WHY?"

"Because they put him in the SHU, Sara. The guards caught him doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing and they locked him up. I called the prison just before I came over. I'm sorry."

Sara laughed bitterly. "That's just… wonderful!" Buster licked her cheek in sympathy and she cuddled closer to the dog. At least one male loved her unconditionally.

"Thanks, Veronica. For telling me, I mean. What was he going to do? Let me find out through the news?" She huffed angrily.

Something struck her. "Is he using me?"

Veronica shook her head determinently. "I have to confess that at first, I was wondering about that myself – but I asked him flat out and he said that it may have started off like that, but that now his feelings for you have grown to the point where he couldn't do something like that, even if he had wanted to."

"He said it like _that_?" Her eyes looked at her suspiciously.

"Ok, well not _exactly_. He said something like 'At first, but now…' "

Sara sighed. "Great. I'm sorry, Veronica – but if you don't mind, I'm thinking that I might take Buster here for a walk to clear my head."

Veronica frowned and pointed towards her broken leg, which was still in a cast. "Will you be able to walk with…that?"

"I think I'll be fine." She raised herself and sat sideways on the bed, before raising herself, finding her balance and putting on Busters leech. "Come on buddy. Let's walk off some of that confusion."

* * *

_Pleaaaase tell me if you liked it or not? Please?_

_XO, as always_


	10. Home is where the heart is

**A/N : You guys, I am SO sorry it took me this long, but I guess that at first I didn't have the time, and then I couldn't find the inspiration, yada yada yada... But now I am back, with a BIG chapter! I really hope you like it.**

**Please let me know?**

**Xo, as always**

* * *

Sara

The Chicago airport looked exactly the same as it had almost four weeks ago when she had embarked on her journey. There were people bustling about, travellers sighing because their plane had been delayed, and the smell of airport junkfood filling the entire building.

Only this time, it was different. This time, she wasn't alone anymore. Veronica stood next to her reassuringly as they waited for the airport employee to bring Buster to them. Sara had feared for the dog's safety and had been fidgeting the entire plane ride back home, hoping he would be okay. Hoping he would like Chicago, where there was no beach, no sunshine and a cold wind that seemed to cut right through you.

She almost squealed with delight as she saw her dog…_her_ dog…pull the poor employee towards where she was standing. He started to run when he saw her. She met him halfway and smiled when he licked her cheek. Pulling him close, she nuzzled his face.

"Hey buddy. Let's go home."

-

She had asked Veronica to drive them past Fox River before dropping them off at home. She needed to see the building again – she didn't want to jump right into Michael's arms, but just driving past the place where she knew he was staying, comforted her. She would get back to work the next morning, and that was enough.

She still didn't know how to feel about him. Knowing that he was going to break his brother out, knowing that he was going to break the law and endanger himself in the proces…knowing he had lied to her. She concluded that she would just wait and see what would happen the next time they saw each other in the infirmary.

When she opened the door to her appartement, Buster immediately went to explore the place and after a lot of bouncing ended up on the couch, curled up tightly. Sara came to sit next to him, a cup of hot chocolate in her hands. He tried to get some as well, but she lightly scolded him. "Dogs aren't supposed to drink hot chocolate," she told him, before coming to the conclusing that she didn't really _have_ _anything_ that dogs are supposed to eat and drink. "Let's go shop." She grinned at him. "I need to feed you."

Walking the streets of Chicago felt odd, somehow. It had only been a month, but she felt a stranger in her own hometown. Pulling her jacket tighter against the cold, she let out a satisfied sigh when they entered the warmth of the pet store. Yes. This would do.

-

Michael

He blinked up at the grey sky, that seemed a whole lot lighter than it really was, due to the fact that he hadn't seen it for a week. A week since he had felt the cold wind beating against his face. A week since he had called her.

Sucre immediately pulled him into a bear hug and a warm smile spread on his face. The solitude in the SHU had been unbearable, and he was happy to see his cellmate again. "I missed you, buddy."

"Yeah, Papi. Me too." Sucre winked at him, before ostentatiously shifting his eyes to the telephone booth a couple of feet away from them. Michael nodded and almost ran to it, dialing the number he knew by heart.

_She was gone._ That's what they told him. "I'm sorry, sir." The nurse explained to him in broken english. "She's here no more. I can give you number?"

"Yes." He told her. "I would like the number very much."

It was only afterwards that he realized that he really hadn't wanted the number. He hung up immediately when a man answered the phone. His voice was soft and warm – and knowing that he was there with her, the fact that she could, and _should_, choose that man over him, was too much.

He was a coward. Letting her down time and time again, promising he would fight for her, then when a man picked up the phone chickening out and disconnecting.. She deserved better than him.

Any minute now they would call him for his insuline shot. A shot that she wouldn't be administering. Sucre's hand rested comforting on his shoulder, and he briefly touched the man's fingers with is own in a silent thank you.

Without Sucre, he didn't know what he would do. He would probably have gone insane a long time ago. But his friend was there every step of the way, comforting him. Calming him.

He would need his calm today. It had been a month since he had seen her. His feet shuffled along the floor towards the infirmary doors, waiting for his accompanying guard to open them and be faced with yet another disappointement.

-

He would never be able to describe the feeling when he saw her. Her hair gracefully fell to one side of her face as she looked up at her previous patient and smiled slightly. His heartbeat stopped for a full second, then started up again with a very uneven, inhuman, and most likely unhealty, rhythm. His feet had stopped in their place and even though he knew that this would most likely annoy the guard, he didn't care. He had forgotten all about him the minute his eyes set on her.

It was in that beautiful, precious second that she noticed him standing there. Her eyes shifted from the patient's face to the hallway and stopped. He held his breath but released it again when her lips slowly curled into a small smile.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered.

The CO nudged him out of his reverie. "Move it, Scofield. Sit your ass down on a chair while the doctor finishes up."

For one moment he feared that she wouldn't. That she would talk to the patient for an eternity, forget all about him and leave him sitting there – waiting. His mind also wandered to what would happen when she did invite him into her office. If her face would show disappointement, he was sure his heart would shatter. On the other hand, if she really hadn't wanted to see him again, she would have stayed in Portugal. Stayed there, started her own practice and marry Mister Man, have his babies and grow old. He shivered. Maybe she only came back to tell him exactly that, say goodbye and head off again.

An entire century passed before he heard the door next to him open, and the inmate walk out. "Your turn, Scofield."

--

Sara + Michael

Seeing him again was…elating. Her heart hammered inside of her chest and she felt the urge to smile non stop when he appeared in her office. But she had to be honest : she had no clue whatsoever about what to do with herself. Maybe she should be mad at him. Blame him for getting himself thrown in the SHU. Maybe she should yell at him for even having the impossibly insane plan to break his brother out.

But she couldn't. Not when he walked towards her with an absolutely broken and vulnerable expression on his face, his light stubble looking so damned incredible. She wanted to raise her fingers to it and trace the pattern, but thankfully controlled herself.

She merely smiled at him. "Hello, Michael."

Hearing her voice – her calm, soft and warm voice – say his name was the greatest feeling in the world. He wished that he could capture this, this very moment and keep it in his mind forever.

"Sara.." he breathed. "Are you staying?"

She nodded. "I guess I am. So how about you come over here so I can give you your shot?"

He grinned sheepishly when he realized that he had stopped a few feet away from her, just gazing at her with – he imagined – his mouth hanging wide open. "Sure. I'm sorry."

He watched as she stood and walked over to the cabinet and noticed her right leg trailing a little behind. Her leg was still in the cast. "How are you feeling?"

"I can't complain," she told him. "the leg still hurts from time to time, and I'll have to do some rehab-exercises when the cast goes off, but the doctors expect I'll be fine. At least, that's what I think they said. My Portuguese isn't that great." She frowned. "I might have to work on that…"

Fear gripped his heart. "I thought you said you were staying?"

Sara lightly took his arm, and a spark of electricity coursed through his body. He wondered if she felt it as well. "I _am_ staying, Michael." Pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, she continued, "but I might take a vacation there every once in a while. I sure am going to miss those beaches…"

"Would it be.." he paused. "Would it be crossing the line if I told you I missed you?"

Delicate wings fluttered inside of her heart. "I don't know, Michael," she lightly said. "I don't think we've actually drawn lines between the two of us." She locked her eyes with his. "Maybe we should define what this _is_ first."

He nodded. "_This_," he motioned between the two of them, "is something real. Something more real than anything I've ever known, and I think that scares me a little. When you were gone..and when I heard what had happened, I just couldn't..."

"Question : how can this be real if we're not honest with eachother?" She looked at him with honest, trusting eyes, and he knew she really meant what she was saying. It was something she had though about – she had been thinking about _them_, and even with her question hanging in the air, he felt his heart soar.

"What do you mean?"

She clapped her hands together. "I mean that there are some things that you don't want me to know about, having to do with your brother…and you…and this place…and so you lied to me. A lot. And there are things that you don't know about me either."

"How do you.."

They were interrupted by a soft bark coming from the glass office next to them. Sara jumped to her feet. "Sit tight. I'll be right back."

Sara

"Buddy, you have absolutely _amazing_ timing." She softly said to the dog while feeding him a cookie. "I was talking myself into a tangle out there."

Buster eagerly wagged his tail. "I'm almost done, okay? I'll be back soon."

She walked back into the room with a newfound ease to find Michael staring blankly in front of him. So now he knew that she knew. And she didn't even have to yell it at him.

"You have a dog?" She jumped at the sound of his voice. He had looked almost catatonic and hearing him speak startled her.

She started to clean up and ready herself for her next patient. "Hm. I brought him back home from Portugal."

"And _into prison_?" He smiled.

Sara laughed. "I know, I know. I just couldn't bear to leave him alone his first day here."

"What's his name?"

"Buster." The dog let out another bark at the sound of his name. "Great ears, that one. Anyway…" she sighed. "our time is up. I will see you tomorrow, Michael."

He grinned before taking her hand and raising it, lightly pressing it to the side of his own face. "I really did miss you, Sara."

"I know." She whispered. "I missed you too."

"Oh, and by the way," he told her just as he was about to walk through the door, "you smell like dog cookies."

* * *

_So? What did you think? Please tell me you liked it? Please?_

_XO, as always_


	11. In my arms

**A/N : You guys, I want to thank you SO MUCH for reviewing the last chapter. I really missed you. ARSpunky, I didn't get the website you sent in your review, the site didn't show it. :( So PM me, will ya? Thanks!**

**Okay, so.. at first I meant for this to consist of two seperate chapters, but I wrote them both tonight and was just too excited after I had written the last scene that I wanted to post them both at once. Very excited. Jeej.**

**Please tell me what you think? Please? Your reviews mean the world to me!!!**

**XO, as always**

**Laura**

* * *

Michael

"She's back, Sucre."

It were the very first words he had spoken since leaving the infirmary that afternoon and even though the Puerto Rican probably already knew by the vast improvement in his mood, saying it out loud just made it all the more real. Sara was back, and she was staying.

She also knew about the break out, which worried him when he wasn't being insanely happy. There was no sign as to what she would do with the information that she had somehow gathered. He couldn't predict the outcome and it made him feel nervous. "And she knows."

"Knows about…you being this sad puppy when she was gone?" His cellmate quipped hopefully, but his playfulness was shattered when he saw the look on Michael's face. "Don't tell me she _knows_ knows, bro. She can't – there's no way she could find out about something like that, right? Right?"

His head weighed heavy in his hands. "She knows."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I have no idea." He confessed. "I mean, it's not like I can walk up to her and say : hey Sara, so do you really know that I'm planning to escape this place, or was it just a hunch?" Michael shook his head. "I really don't know."

That evening during yard time, he immediately dialed Veronica's number. If Sara knew, the most logical explanation would be that Veronica flat out told her. He had no idea as to _why_ she would, but hey, it was worth a shot.

"_Veronica Donovan."_ Her voice sounded tired, and he immediately went into the caring-mode. He knew that it wasn't easy on her, constantly having to fight for Lincoln's life. But he still didn't forget his own purpose for calling her.

"Hey Vee, it's me. How are you?"

Veronica smiled on the other end of the line. _"I think I have a serious case of jetlag."_

He grinned. "I'll bet you do. Listen, I'm sorry that I..have to ask you this question, but… what exactly did you and Sara talk about?"

"_Everything and anything."_ She teased. _"Why, are you wondering wether or not your name came up?"_

He exhaled heavily."Something like that. I need to know if you told her about what you think I'm planning."

"_What I 'think' you're planningl? I __know__ what you are up to Michael." _Her calm voice had turned into a nervous rant, a fearful one. _"I know, okay – and seeing Sara so upset because you were lying to her 24/7 just killed me. You know what – I actually stood up for you by telling her the truth. You weren't there with her, Michael, I was. Okay? I watched her cry over you, watched her wait by the phone just praying you'd call, and I watched her turn down a great offer. All because of you. So I'm not sorry I told her. She deserved to know. I'll talk to you soon."_

Michael stood there listening to the dialtone for what seemed like ages. Veronica had never been this angry with him, or this protective of anyone else. He knew that he should like the fact that the both of them had become such good friends while they were in Portugal, but something just didn't feel right. Something felt very wrong.

He heard a dog barking in the distance and snapped his head around to search for it. His eyes settled on Sara, her step lighter than it used to be while she walked down the lane, holding a small tennisball in her hand. The dog excitedly bounced around to her side, his eyes trained on the object of his desire. Michael himself wasn't so much interested in the ball itself, but more in the person holding it. He heard her let out a playful laugh before tossing the ball away, watching with delight when the dog ran after it.

Except the yellow lab didn't return to her immediately. Instead, he trotted over to where Michael was standing, his fingers gripping the greenish metal wire.

Sara

Michael crouched down and tentatively reached out to touch her puppy's nose and ears. Sara shook her head amazedly and walked over to the two of them and leaned against the fence herself.

"That's just – typical." A smile spread on her face. "_Of course_ you're the first one he runs to, isn't that right, Buster?" Her hand reached for the dog's face, gently pulling it upwards so he looked into her eyes. "You're a riot."

"You're lucky if _that's_ your definition of riot." Michael commented. "In here, they uh … aren't usualy that nice and cuddly."

She straightened herself. "I remember. Michael, about this plan of yours…"

He held up his hand to silence her. "I really think that it would be best if you knew nothing about it."

"But I _do_, Michael. I know. I can't pretend that I don't. Things make a lot of sense, now. Like why you're hanging around with the likes of Abruzzi, for example." She frowned. "You can't let him come with you, Michael. It's one thing to have you and Lincoln… Sucre…roaming the streets, but I won't let Abruzzi come with you."

He closed his eyes. "We need him."

"So un-need him. I'm not going to report you, in case you were wondering. But I won't have that."

Michael

He recognized her warrior spirit again. The way she had spoken to him before she had left for Europe. He pondered her reason for letting it resurface. Was she angry with him or scared?

"I'll try. I can't promise anything."

She smiled sadly. "At least you're not lying to me anymore."

_Breathe in_. "Sara, I'm sorry." He had never been more sorry in his life than he had been when he had had to lie to her. "I just…there's no excuse."

"I know." She said, briefly touching his curled up fingers, careful not to be seen. "I know. Now, Buster and I have to get home, don't we, buddy?"

The dog let out an excited laugh. "I'll see you tomorrow, Michael."

"Yeah." He whispered. "Tomorrow. Wait." He waited for her to turn around and face him before quietly continuing. "I'm glad you're back, Sara."

She just smiled and walked away.

* * *

A few days later.

* * *

Michael

"Michael! I need to talk to you." Lincoln nearly shouted at him when entered the PI locker room.

"Keep it down, Burrows."

Even though he didn't look the least bit sorry, he hurriedly murmured a "sorry, boss" before turning towards his younger brother. "Michael, I need to talk to you."

Alarm bells started to go off in his head the minute he noticed Lincoln's expression. It was the same one he used to have whenever he reprimanded Michael when they were kids and he had done something he shouldn't have. "What is it, Linc?"

"It's…" he scratched the back of his head. "I was watching you the other day and I noticed something. Now, I know that it's probably nothing, but we couldn't afford something like this to happen and I just wanted to point that out to you."

He looked at Lincoln expectantly, hoping this conversation wasn't headed where he feared it was. "Would you spit it out already?"

"Okay, okay…" Lincoln held his hands up in mock surrender. "It's about the doctor, Mike." _Great. Just… great._ The other man's eyes swept over his face, trying to find some information written on it, knowing full well that Michael could be a closed book whenever he choose to be. He groaned. "Please tell me you don't feel a thing for her. That I shouldn't worry?"

This was exactly why he hadn't wanted to tell Lincoln about Sara. His brother would write it off as something bad, something to be forgotten as quickly as possible. Something that didn't really matter.

"She's important to me."

Lincoln sighed. "Michael – don't. Okay? Don't make this about boy meets girl."

Michael shook his head fiercely. "It's not, okay. I'm still here to do what I came here to do. This doesn't change anything about the plan." _Or, not yet._ He thought. The comment about Abruzzi still played through his mind and ever since she'd spoken the words to him, he'd been trying to figure out a way to leave some of their companions behind.

His brother's eyebrow went up. "How about after?"

"I don't know, Lincoln." Would she agree to meet up with him? Prepared to lead a life that required a constant vigilance, with a constant fear of being caught? Could he do that to her? It would hurt like hell to let her go, but if that was what was right for her, he would. He should. It was the least he could do.

"Jesus, Michael." The voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Stop judging me." It was a low, quiet hiss, but Linc knew better than to go any further. So they kept silent as they worked on repainting the walls, each one with their mind on the very same woman.

Sara

She nervously tapped her pencil on the white tabletop of her desk, willing herself not to glance at the clock for the fifth time in as many minutes. It was still so amazing what Michael Scofield could do to her : for instance the ability to turn her into a hypersensitive, nerves-tightly-wound doctor who couldn't wait until he entered her office.

Buster apparently noticed her distress, because with all the ease in the world he walked over to her and lay his head in her lap, his big brown eyes staring at her reassuringly. Sara smiled and bent her head to press a kiss to his nose and rub his ears a little. Henry Pope had allowed her to bring his basket and let him stay with her while she worked, after she had threatened to quit if he didn't. She just – ah – she couldn't bear to leave him alone in her appartement. They needed eachother.

A knock on the door shook her. "Doctor Tancredi? Your next patient is here." _Finally._

"That's okay, send him in, I'll be there in a second." She called out to the CO, hoping he would leave. "It's Michael." She whispered to the dog, who let out a happy throaty sound.

Sara grinned. "My sentiments exactly, pup."

-

Sara + Michael

"Michael…" she said upon entering the room. "How are we feeling today?"

"Okay." He shrugged. "There have been better days."

"Mm." She hummed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's no big deal. Just had a small fight with Lincoln, is all." Ah. That explained it. She had been able to tell that something was up the minute she had seen his face. It secretly thrilled her that she was able to read his moods so easily, but she tried not to let it show.

"What was it about?"

"Just some things about the plan that he needed to go over again and again." The way that he avoided her gaze was another clear sign to her.

"By 'just some things', I presume you mean me?" She granted him a sideways smile, before walking over to the cabinet and pulling out the needle and small bottle of clear liquid. He looked at her in wonder. "I'm not as clueless as you think I am, Mister Scofield."

Michael smiled at her. One of those rare happy smiles that made her heart lift. "I never once thought you were, Tancredi."

"Don't worry," she told him. "I don't _want _to know what your brother said about me. It's easier that way."

"Ah." He grinned playfully. "You may not want to know this little thing, but I still want to know what that 'great offer' was that you turned down in Portugal."

It had been bothering him ever since he had hung up the phone after talking to Veronica. It was the only sentence that had clung to him like a parasite, making him toss and turn at night. The first time he had asked her about it, she had avoided his question and turned it into a childish game, where he would guess every time he came for his shot, and she would always burst his bubble.

"They…asked you to be a ballet dancer in their national dance theatre?"

"I wish. I can't dance even if my life depended on it."

He suggestively tilted his head a bit to the left. "It's all in the leading, you know?"

Sara laughed. "You are such a walking cliché."

There was one possibility that he had pushed into the back of his mind, afraid to ask her, fearing it would be true. But he needed to know – and that was why he had waited for the right playful moment to bring it up.

"He asked you to stay, didn't he?"

It felt, in that moment, as if all air had been drained from the room, and all that was left was an empty silence, that wouldn't transfer the sound of her words to his ears, not even if she screamed the answer at him. It was then that he knew it was true.

"Something like that." It was a quiet whisper, yet he had been wrong about the air. It didn't suck away the sound, it magnified it ten, twenty, forty times.

"Something like that?" His lungs collapsed.

"Michael, don't make me say it. I don't want to hurt you. Please." It was a desperate plea, but she knew that he wouldn't grant her wish. He needed to know. Any minute now, he would realize what she meant and he would shatter.

She didn't want him to know. Yet she didn't blame Veronica for letting something slip. Hell, she was a living proof of the fact that when you're angry with Michael, you just blurted out everything.

"Oh God." His trembling fingers travelled to his forehead and she was thankful that she had pulled up the screen so that no one could see him break down. "He asked you to marry him."

Silently, she walked over to him and took his trembling fingers in her own. "I don't know if you've noticed, Michael, but I'm not wearing an engagement ring or a wedding ring at the moment. I said no, and I haven't regretted that answer for a second."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _Breathe in. Breathe out._ "You deserve to be happy. Don't let me ruin that."

"I told him," she continued to explain silently, "that I was in love with someone else. I hated having to tell him, but it was the truth and I didn't want to lie." Her eyes briefly shifted to the right, and when she figured the coast was clear she gently lay a hand against his neck.

"Open your eyes, Michael."

When he did, she saw the raw pain in them and sucked in a breath. His vulnerability in front of her rocked her to the core. Slowly, she leaned forward until there was no more than a breath between their two faces and placed her lips upon his in a small, sweet kiss.

It was as if he had come to life again. His hand that had been hanging limp by his side travelled up to pull her closer to him and his breathing returned to normal, if not faster. There was an overwhelming sense of desperation in his kiss that made her legs go numb and her heart soar. _This was better than any dream._

He was afraid to let her go. Afraid that if he disentangled their hands and arms and bodies, she would disappear again and tell him yes. That she would marry the man with the warm and calm voice that had answered the phone only a few days ago. He still couldn't believe that she had turned the proposal down because of him. _He didn't deserve her. Not even the slightest bit._

He wished that he could tell her. Tell her exactly how much she meant to him. But all that he could muster was a soft, amazed laugh, which she returned. Raising her hand to his lips, he tenderly kissed her fingertips, making her blush.

"I think…" he smiled, "that I better leave."

Her mouth opened in silent protest. "It's not that I don't want to stay…" he reassured her. "It's just that I _have to go._."

She knew that he was right. Of course she knew. She just wanted him not to have to leave. All she could do was nod while he stood and walked over to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Y-yeah." She stumbled. "Tomorrow."

The click of the door falling into place sounded louder than it should have. Immediately her hands flew to her face and confirmed her suspicions:

She was burning up.

* * *

_So, what did you think? Pleaaaase tell me? Pleaaaase review???_

_Love you all,_

_Xo, as always_


	12. Not the answer

**A/N : You guys, I feel like I am apologizing to you ever single time I post a chapter here. I'm sorry -- my inspiration was gone, I didn't find the time, ... I've discovered that the best time for me to write is at night (between midnight and 3 PM) so I'll be pulling all nighters from time to time. Anyway, hope you like this chapter. Please let me know?**

**Pleaaaase review?**

**XO, as always**

* * *

"I think we should talk about what happens when you leave here."

His gaze travelled towards the window, trying to avoid her questioning eyes. The afternoon had started out the same as every afternoon for the past 2 weeks : he had come into the infirmary and she had pretended to be completely unaffected by his presence at first. When the guard had felt it was safe to turn away, he had lightly taken her hand into his own and gently touched it to his lips. "Hi," he'd said, and she had smiled shyly at him. "Hello, Michael."

Their conversation flowed easily, filled with playful teasing and innuendo. A little bit of hope that made it seem all too easy. The question had shattered all of that.

"I don't…" he started, before exhaling heavily. "I don't want you to…"

Sara's brow creased in confusion. "You don't want me to what?"

"Something." He shook his head. "I'm not a safe choice – not now, not after I leave this place. I'm either a prisoner or a fugitive and I want you..to be able to have more than that."

She took his face into her hands and directed his eyes to her own. "Michael, why do I feel like you're saying goodbye to me?"

He blankly looked at her. "Because I think it would be better for you if I did."

She took a step away in anger. "Well," she huffed, "I'm _so_ happy that you pretend to know exactly what I want and need, Mr. Scofield."

"Don't be like that. You know what I mean."

"I know what you mean." She stated, arms folded. "And I disagree. So I suggest you get over this idiotic inferiority complex of yours and tell me how to meet up with you."

Michael bit his lip. "I can't. It's too dangerous."

"I'm coming for you whether you like it or not. Now get out of my office and figure out a way."

"Sara.." His voice sounded like a desperate plea.

"Go."

Sara

When the door fell into place and the room was silent again, she exhaled heavily, pressing her fists to her eyes in a desperate attempt not to cry. Here she was, willing to give up her entire life, that – to be honest – wasn't exactly wonderful, but it was hers all the same, to go with him, anywhere and everywhere, and he didn't want her to. Of course it would be dangerous, it would be chaos and running and looking over your shoulder the entire time, but that was no reason to end it.

Because she couldn't. Prisoner, fugitive or otherwise, she would still be in love with him. God, she was angry. She was upset. She needed to go for a run, and didn't care if her lungs would hurt or her face would flush to the point where it looked as if she'd boiled in a steaming bowl of water – it was just something that she needed to do.

Checking her shedule, she was relieved to discover that she only had one more patient before she could close up shop. In half an hour she would be liberated – she would take her patients' files home and toss them on her bed before taking out her never-worn running shoes and go.

"_Go."_

Michael

He stood by, clutching the iron wires and waiting for her. He knew that he shouldn't have said what he had, but it was only to protect her. Instead, he'd hurt her yet again. His head fell. He was an idiot.

"Isn't this the time she usually gets out?"

Michael turned towards his cellmate. "We had a fight."

"About?"

"Meeting up after the escape?"

Sucre leaned with his back against the fence. "Now, in _any normal situation_ I'd say you wanted her to, but she said no, but in _your case_, I'm guessing it's the other way around, right?"

Michael closed his eyes. "It's too dangerous for her."

_Breathe in. Breathe out._ "She should have come out by now."

He was starting to get nervous and it showed. Sucre looked at him. Worry was sketched all over his face, but more than the worry, there was fear. A real, heartbreaking fear that maybe she would walk away from all of it if he kept it up. He had stopped lying to her, but what he was doing right now might just be worse.

"You didn't…say anything to Lincoln about Sara, did you?" Michael glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"No, man. He figured that one out all on his own." He fell silent, wondering if he should continue or if it was a private thing between brothers. "I saw the two of you talking…he didn't look too happy."

"He's not. He doesn't want me to make it about 'boy meets girl'." The words had echoed in the hollows of his mind all day. _Boy meets girl._ If Lincoln hadn't been set up, Michael wouldn't even have been here. He wouldn't have met her. He wouldn't make it about 'boy meets girl', but the both of them shared a space on top of his prioritylist. Sara was just as important to him as Linc was, even though his brother would never understand.

"Do you want me to say something? To either one of them?" Sucre offered.

Just like he had expected, the answer was negative. "Thanks, but I don't think… Lincoln won't understand and I don't want her to feel cornered by the 'best friend.' "

The statement was answered by a beaming smile. "You do realize you're going to make me cry, right?"

Michael laughed. "You're such a whimp."

-

She wasn't there the next day. Or rather, she _was_, she just wasn't there for him. He saw her silhouette through the glass windows that separated the neighbouring examrooms and noticed how carefully she was trying not to look in his direction. Great. So he was stuck with Katie once again.

-

Sara

"You can't go into hiding every time something like this happens," he told her the next day, "Katie will get suspicious."

Sara turned to him and fired a similar statement back at him. "_You_ can't keep running every time I get too close." She snapped her folder shut and walked over to the kabinet, intentionally not pulling up the screen – she was still angry and not about to let him sweet talk his way out of the issue again. The run had done her some good, she had been able to clear her head, even though the nasty side effects still remained. She went for a run every day before work now, which was quite a sacrifice seeing as how she loved to sleep in. But laying in bed, half – dreaming, half – awake, only made her thoughts run wild, like the steady drum of a rolling train.

"Damn it, Michael." She pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear to cover up the fact that she was trying to keep her cool, and her tears, in check. "Why do you keep pushing me away?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tentatively reaching for her, mindful of the absence of the screen. "I don't want to hurt you, it's the absolute last thing I want to do. It's just that I want you to be safe. I want to protect you."

She bore her eyes into his own. "I'm not as fragile as you think. I can take care of myself – I've always taken care of myself before you came along. I don't need an overprotective…" She fell short, realizing that she hadn't always been as strong as she told him. The dark shadow that followed her everywhere, but that she tried to ignore, reared its head.

"I know," he stressed, taking her hand, the guards be damned. "I know, okay – it's just that I'm new to this."

"We're _both_ new to this, Michael. But I'm willing to give it a chance, I'm willing to risk it all, for you." She turned her face away, embarrassed all of a sudden. She bit her lower lip. "But if you don't want that, then that means you don't want this… us. It's either the one or the other, Michael."

She stood abruptly before walking towards the cabinet in pure disorientation and turning her back to him. She felt the warmth of his gaze upon her body. It felt as if it were basking in the summer sun. A spark of electricity jolted through her veins when she felt his hand curl around her. "Of course I want this." He hoarsely whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of her face. She trembled. "I've never wanted anything more."

She twisted around in his arms and touched his face."Then let me be with you. Please."

He closed his eyes briefly, and nodded. "Okay." His lips met hers in a tender kiss. "I'll find a way."

* * *

_So, what did you think? I'm not a 100% sure about this chapter. Please tell me if you like it? Please?_

_Xo, as always_

_Laura_


	13. when plans get changed

**A/N : So, I had this chapter all written and ready to upload, but didn't find the time to do it. I really hope you like it. PLEASE, LET ME KNOW YOU'RE STILL THERE?**

**Please tell me what you think?**

**Xo, as always**

* * *

Sara

"I'm sorry I'm doing this to you."

She stood tall but felt anything but. The look in his eyes was one of pure disappointment and sadness, and it killed her to have to do this. If it were any other man, she wouldn't have felt this way. But he had always treated her with respect and kindness, showing her something akin to love. He had been more of a father than her own had been.

Henry Pope slowly stood from his chair to face her. "We're very sorry to lose you. And I once again apologize for what you had to go through. I don't wish that on anyone."

Sara dismissed the apology. "Sir, you couldn't have prevented this – I knew the risks when I took this job, and have loved it for a long time. I felt as if…" her hands came to life in a gesture of completeness. "I was doing something with my life, sir. Working here was a great opportunity. I want to thank you for giving it to me, but ever since the riot I've been afraid to come to work. I've been strong in front of them, but I can't keep on doing this to myself. Please forgive me."

He walked over to her and put his arms around her. "There is nothing to forgive, miss Tancredi. Working with you has been a real privilege, and I wish you the very best."

She was sure that when looking at her heart, even years from now, a crack would show when reviewing this moment. Not only was she saying goodbye to him, she was doing it for the wrong reasons. Of course the riot had been difficult for her, but that was not the reason she was giving him her resignation. The truth was that she was here, in this office, saying the things she was saying, because of Michael. If she wanted to be with him, she would have to disappear off the radar, lay low, unseen.

"How bad is the situation over there?" He asked her, a frown decorating his face.

Sara shook her head. "I don't know exactly, sir. But if they're asking for my help, then it must be pretty important. It's been over 3 years since I went over there to build the orphanage, and everything seemed to be alright. Maybe that's what they wanted me to think, I don't know. I'll just go over there," she paused. "Maybe talk to the Indian government. I'll do everything I can to help. But sir, my flight doesn't leave until tomorrow evening. Until then, I'd like to continue my work here. If that's alright with you."

Henry smiled. "Of course, Sara."

"Thank you for these three years, warden." She smiled a little before walking to the door and stepping through, only to be called back at the very last minute.

"Sara?" She poked her head back around the door to listen. "Send us word when you're settled in, will you?"

--

"Veronica, you should have seen him. My heart just broke having to say those things." Sara held her face in her hands and blew air through the small cracks her fingers allowed her. "He's been so kind to me."

Veronica sat her glass down and reached over to touch her friend's shoulder. They'd decided to meet for lunch to discuss the details of their journey. Veronica had decided not to stay behind either, but travel along with Sara until they met up with the men…wherever that was going to take place. "I know it's hard, Sara. Maybe when all of this is over, you can explain it to him."

Sara laughed. "Maybe. But I think that I should wait a while. Sending a letter to him explaining that 'I'm sorry, Henry, but I fell in love with an inmate and decided to run away with him after he'd escaped your prison' might not be so appreciated in the next few weeks." She let out a frustrated sigh.

"So," Veronica quirked her eyebrow. "was this your idea or Michael's?"

"Ironically enough, it was mine. It might have been his, but after our fight, I decided that I wasn't going to wait for him to figure it out, and made up my own little plan." She shrugged. "And either way, he needs to concentrate on getting _himself_ out, that should be his priority. We'll take care of ourselves, won't we?"

She raised her glass in toast, and Veronica eagerly touched her glass to it. "Yes, we will. Which reminds me : I went over to a friend of Nick's, and he provided me with these." She reached inside of her purse and took out 2 passports, waving them in front of Sara's face in triumph.

Sara snapped one of them down and smirked. "Dana Riverside?" She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, do I look like a Dana?"

"Hey!" Veronica playfully defended herself. "You're lucky you got yourself stuck with Dana! Do _I_ look like a Bridget?"

Sara doubled over in laughter. "Dana and Bridget. Hilarious. This calls for another toast." She formally lifted her glass up in the air and spoke. "To Bridget and Dana. May we conquer the world."

"You do know that if you keep on making these toasts, we'll be drunk before lunch is through, right?" She looked at Sara in wonder. God, she was so glad that she had a friend she could do things like these with. She had a friend who would travel to the end of the world with her, only to travel back and settle down in some foreign country with two escaped convicts that they happened to love.

"Aw, tush. Who cares? I only have two patients left to see today, and one of 'em is Michael." All of a sudden her mood switched to serious. "Sometimes I wonder what the hell I think I'm doing. I mean, I'm going to be running from the FBI. " She smiled. "I wonder what my dad would say if he knew."

"Do you think you'll miss him?"

"I don't know." She pondered. "Maybe sometimes. He was never there for me growing up, but he's still my father, you know. Speaking of being a father, is LJ coming with us on this little roadtrip?"

"I figured he might as well. The FBI will come after him if we don't take him with us, and he really wanted to go. I don't think he wants to be away from his father for that ammount of time."

"So," Sara leaned forward in curiosity. "What shall we call him?"

Veronica proudly stated : "Eli McDerby. Son of Bridget McDerby and Thomas, who left them when Eli was born." She sniggered. "I'm a single mom."

"Go you!" Sara winked at her. "Shall I toast to Bridget, the single mom?"

"Oh, why the hell not."

--

Michael

He felt himself become more and more nervous as the day of the escape neared, which he supposed was a normal reaction. It was their one and only chance, if anything would go wrong it was all over. Lincoln's life would be ended for him, his future relationship with Sara would burst like a bubble, and they would most likely be killed by the other planning-on-being-escapees. He didn't think T-bag would be too happy if they didn't escape in three days. He wouldn't be happy being left behind either, but at least they would be clear of that danger. He pressed his fingers to his temples and gentle massaged them while he waited for Sara to enter the room.

When she finally did, he could immediately tell that there was something different about her. She had a giddy smile on her face and there was something in her eyes that he couldn't quite describe. It was only after she twirled a little when walking over to the medicin cabinet and giggled, that he realized what was going on.

"Oh my god." He told her when she sat facing him. "You're drunk."

She shook her head. "I'm not _drunk_, I just drank a little too much wine at lunch."

Michael rolled his eyes, more than a little amused. "You should take an aspirine. You still have patients to see." Okay, so he was a little worried as wel.

She shrugged. "Only one after you're gone."

But he wouldn't waver. "It's still an inmate, Sara. Even the tamest of the inmates would have a field day when he notices the prison doctor's drunk."

"I'm not _drunk_. I'm just happy." She beamed.

"I can see that, and you're looking very cute." He took her hand, gently pulling her closer to him. "But if you don't take an aspirin right now, I'm going to be very very worried about you. Now, you don't want me to be worried, do you?"

She squinted at him. "You're trying to manipulate me, mister Scofield."

"Maybe I am. Will you _please_ take an aspirin?"

"Only if you call me 'honey.' " _Oh God, could she be any cuter?_ It made him realize all the more that he wanted everything with her. Not just these stolen moment in the infirmary. He wanted to be there when she just woke from dreaming, he wanted to be there when she was drunk, when she couldn't sleep. He wanted to be there when she was sick and take her out to dinner. He just wanted it all.

"Okay." He laughed. "_Honey_, will you _please_ take an aspirin so I don't have to worry about you when I leave this place in about 3 minutes."

Sara granted him with a dazzling smile, said : "Alright. Sit tight.", then broke out into giggles 'because it rhymed'. He shook his head in wonder.

"You know what would make me feel better?"

She groaned. "You already _got_ your wish. Want to know what would make _me_ feel better?"

"No, I don't. I have a feeling you're going to tell me, doctor."

"I want _you_," she pointed at Michael as if daring him to go and throw toiletpaper at the teacher, "to draw that curtain and kiss me _passionately_!" She made her point by throwing her hands in the air and almost crying out the last syllabels.

"I wish I could, Sara," he patiently replied, "but our time is nearly up and you haven't even given me my shot."

"Oh right. _Damn._" She injected the needle into his arm and expertly pushed the fluid in, biting her tongue in concentration. "You know what? I think I'll leave that last patient to Katie. If you can't kiss me, then I'd rather be home." She sighed dramatically.

"I think that's a great plan!" He gently tapped her nose before standing. "So, I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

She nodded in acceptance. "Yah. See ya."

-

Sucre grinned at him when he entered cell nr. 40. "So, how was the visit with the good doctor?"

Michael smiled at the mentioning of Sara. "Hilarious. She was a teeny tiny bit drunk."

His friend seemed to be somewhat shocked. "She what?"

"Amazingly cute, but I advised her to take an aspirine and scamper on home. She only had one more patient to go, but you and I both know that any inmate would have a ball seeing her in that kind of state." He couldn't imagine what they'd do. Images of the riot appeared in his mind and he shuddered.

"Tomorrow's her last day, eh Papi. They're not gonna hurt her anymore." Sucre offered, patting Michael on the back.

"Yeah," he mumbled, lying down on his back, arms folded beneath his head. "and after that, the danger's only just beginning…"

* * *

_So? Please tell me you liked it? Please?_

_Xo, as always_


	14. I shall believe

**A/N : I want to thank the people who reviewed these last chapters : thank you, your reviews mean the world to me! I _also _promised you that I would update tonight, and so I am. (I'm a good girl, aren't I?) Thank you for that as well, because by promising I could let my fingers run away with me again. I already had a version of this chapter half - ready, but I just opened up a new document and wrote. Turns out I like this version a whole lot better! (And it's twice as long!)**

**Anyway, please tell me what you think?**

**Xo, as always**

* * *

Sara

"Is your headache as bad as mine?"

She could practically see Veronica smiling through the phone. _"Are you kidding? Nick looked at my like I'd grown two heads."_

"Michael sent me home." A sad smile appeared on her face. "Today's the last day we have together until God knows when."

"_Be sure to pull up the screen_._"_ Her partner teased.

"Ha – ha." She sarcastically added, then turned giddy. "Of course I will. I'm also thinking about telling the guard that I want to do a full check-up on him because it's my last day and I want to check up on his toes."

"_Are those still bothering him?"_

"I don't know," she truthfully answered. "He doesn't really talk about the incident. Which reminds me that I also have to give him the syringes and sedatives to take out Abruzzi and T-bag. " She sighed. "God, the whole thing scares me."

"_Michael knows what he's doing, Sara. But in case that doesn't ease your worries, we'll be on a plane tonight – I'll try to calm you down."_

Sara smiled. She knew Veronica was scared out of her wits as well, and the simple fact that she was willing to sacrifice her own fear to ease Sara's, was amazing. "Thanks. I have to go now, though – I've been sitting on the Fox River parking lot for I don't know how long."

"_Sara Tancredi, you get your butt inside that prison. I'll see you tonight. Bye."_

The sudden silence in the car was almost too much to bear, but a part of her just didn't want to walk through the gates, knowing it would be the last time. She exhaled heavily before opening the door, only to discover it was raining. Why didn't she notice that before? She ran towards the building, trying to cover herself as much as possible by holding her briefcase over her head.

When she _did_ enter the main complex, she was surprised to find the PI crew painting the hallways. She supposed it had more to do with the unwillingness of the guards to stand out in the rain and watch them, than it had to with sheltering the inmates from the rain. Michael shot her a look that suggested amusement, so she glared back at him.

"Doctor Tancredi!" CO Louis Patterson greeted her from across the hallway. "Last day, huh?"

She grinned back at him. "Yeah. And a _wet_ day."

"We're sure going to miss you over here. Are you comin' by the guards room before you catch that plane of yours? Say goodbye?"

Well, there were a _few_ guards she would miss, Patterson included, so why not. "Sure. But not too long – I've still got to pack. And I'm terribly slow when it comes to that." She smiled, gave him a wave and went to work. _One more day._

Michael

He saw her near the door and took in every inch of her. He tried to memorize the picture, etch it into his memory so there was a possibility to get through these days without her. He knew that he could easily convice himself that she had all been a dream the moment he didn't see her daily anymore, when he couldn't feel her fingers steadying his arm and didn't hear her voice.

It would be hard saying goodbye to her. Before, when he had started to realize that he was slowly but surely falling for her, he had concocted a speech inside of his head, where he would say goodbye between the lines, hint at his leaving, but still not hurt her – she wouldn't have fully realized what was going on, not until she came back to work the next morning to find him gone. She would be okay, and he was only killing himself a little on the inside. Now that they had grown this close, now that she was actually _his_, and the fact that she was packing her bags for India was all for him, it would be nearly impossible to walk out of this room unscathed. Letting her fingers fall from his would leave them aching until they met again.

She turned to him, smiled a little and excused herself from the conversation she was having with Katie. Katie, her faithful nurse who had tears in her eyes when she too walked away.

"Michael." Sara walked into the room, her tread slightly heavier than usual. "How are we feeling today?" Her left hand reached out to grab the privacy screen on her way towards him. Slowly, she placed it in front of him, sheltering them from the outside world.

Sara

Sara walked into his arms, needing to feel him close to her, protecting her from the fear that threatened to overtake her if she wasn't strong enough. He needed to chase the monsters from under her bed and curl up next to her, so they wouldn't return.

"I got us a few more minutes," she murmured against his chest. "I told them that I wanted to make sure you were okay before I left." _I wanted to make sure I was okay, before I left_. "They're throwing me a party before I go home tonight." She said, surprise evident in her voice. "Even the guards."

"Well, of course they are. I know that I'm not going to be the only one missing you around here," he smiled sadly. "I overheard the guards talking about the party when I was painting the hallways. Apparently, there's going to be cake involved."

She let out a soft groan. "I wish they didn't go through all this trouble. I feel like a fraud." Immediately, she felt him stiffen and cursed herself for saying it. "But," she looked up at him and guided his eyes to her own, "I know I made the right choice. Because being without you… that just _won't do_, mr. Scofield."

A forced smile played around her lips. She needed to keep things light, for both their sakes. If she let it all crumble now, the first nights without him would be spent crying for him, for this bittersweet goodbye and for the absence of his body next to hers. She needed to be strong, to not give up. Of course she would miss him, it would nearly tear her apart, but it was something she could not afford. Every single bit of this plan needed to be executed flawlessly, and if she walked around only half alive, it would all tumble down like a house of cards. Like freaking Domino Day.

He tenderly stroked her hair, the curve of her neck, tracing a path towards her fingertips. "I love you so much." It was a whisper, a slow intake of breath to steady himself. "And you'll be safe with Veronica – you can trust her. Don't worry about me, okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "Like _that's _going to happen." She pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss, before turning towards the cabinet and returning with two syringes and small bottles of medicin. "First, you take out T-bag, do it right here. Tell the rest of them before you go, so they won't feel a sense of betrayal when you suddenly pull out a needle and strike one of them down. Now, _don't_ drug Abruzzi before you reach the plane, alright? The pilot needs to see him before he'll grant you access to the plane. Leave him on the landing strip and there the cops will…"

Her breath hitched. _The cops._ In a few days, Michael would be tracked by them, hunted down by their bloodhounds and if caught…If caught, he would be taken down without so much as a second's hesitation. "I'm so scared."

"Don't be." He let his head fall onto her shoulder and pulled her completely into him, praying that he would never have to let go. "We'll be okay. And I'll see you soon, I promise."

"I love you." She clawed at his back, making his shirt cling tighter to his back. Sara raised herself until she was standing on the tips of her toes and pulled him in for a kiss, filled with all the love, and fear, and sadness that she had inside of her.

Michael

His one hand snaked around her waist while the other softly cradled her head. The aching need to hold her here forever was too strong to fight. He let it overtake him, pull him under and drown him in her warmth time and time again.

Slowly, she pulled back from the kiss and ran her hand over his face. He could see the forming tears in her eyes and swallowed hard. "We'll be okay. I know it."

"I wish I had your confidence," she sighed, then let out a small, bitter laugh. "I'm always the one having to leave you."

He gave her a sad, lopsided smile. "Yeah, but we always find our way back."

A soft knock on the door shook them to their very core. "Sara?" Katie's voice sounded hesitant. "I'm sorry…but the guard is wondering how long you'll be."

Sara cleared her throat, wiped at her not yet fallen tears and straightened herself. "I won't be long."

Next, she turned to him and kissed him one final time. "You should go," she murmured. "We can't stay in here forever." She shook the thought of that very possibility out of her head and smiled. "I'll see you soon, Michael."

His fingers caught her own and he raised the pair of them to his face, touching them to his cheek, his eyes closed. It wasn't enough, so he reached for all of her, trying to remember this feeling. He would hold onto it every night until they met again. "I love you, Sara. I'll see you soon."

--

Katie

Five minutes after Scofield exited the infirmary, Sara still hadn't come out. Not wanting to intrude, but worrying about her friend, Katie carefully approached the room before softly knocking on the door.

"Sara? You okay?"

"Come on in." The nurse turned the doorknob and walked over to where Sara was sitting, looking lost. She was fidgeting with the fabric of the chaise, her eyes staring at nothing in particular. Her eyes were dry, so that at least was something.

"It was hard saying goodbye, huh?"

The doctor nodded solemnly. "Yeah."

Katie hesitantly went over to Sara, touching a hand to her shoulder. "Who knows, maybe you'll see him again, some other time and place. Hey, he could be out sooner then you know, if he behaves himself a little and steers clear of Brad Bellick."

"Katie…" Sara turned to her friend with pleading eyes. "Take care of him for me, will you?"

"Sure." Katie raised herself and sat beside her. "Don't worry about him. He'll be fine."

Sara

Michael had been right. There _was_ cake involved. When she entered the cantine, the whole room burst into applause, and she couldn't help but laugh when she saw the banner they had made for her. _'Good luck, Sara!'_ it said in bold red letters, the exclamation mark a whole lot bigger than it was supposed to be. Someone immediately thrust a glass of champagne into her hand, before hugging her tight to his buff body. She politely hugged him back and did the same to all the others who came over to say goodbye.

And then there he was. Henry Pope, standing quietly in the corner, looking on with pride. "Sara," he said when she walked towards him. "The cake is delicious." He laughed freely, putting down his plate before hugging her as well. Afterwards, he searched his jacket pockets for something, and pulled out a thick envelope. "This is something from all of us," he told her, "for the orphanage."

She shook her head. "Please, you didn't need to do that. You didn't need to do," she gestured around her, "any of this."

Warden Pope smiled. "Did you really think we would let you go without so much as a goodbye party?"

Louis Patterson joined in. "And did you really think you would leave our surprise party without making a damn good speech?"

Sara opened her mouth in protest. "No, no… I'm not speeching, I'm not –"

"Everyone listen up! Our beloved Sara is going to say something!" Louis winked at her before turning over a crate of beer and holding out his hand so she could easily step onto her little stage.

She let out an awkward laugh. "So, you're not letting me off the hook, are you?" A few people cat called, and the guards bellowed a laugh. "Uhm – I want to thank you all _so, so much_," she started, not really knowing where she was going with this. It was best to let it all fall from her mouth – speaking the truth in the purest, simplest form. "These past few years have been great, working with you was…" she threw her hands up in the air, "AARGH! It was _frustrating and hard_, you stubborn people!" She laughed.

"No, I'm kidding…mostly. One thing is for sure though, and that I will never ever forget this." Looking at Katie and Pope in particular, she added: "I will never ever forget how much you mean to me. And I promise that if I'll be in touch when I can. I promise." She rolled her eyes. "Now, before I get all teary-eyed up here, I think I'm going to step down from this thing, kiss everyone that's kissable."

She glanced around the room and teased: "which face it, almost none of you are." The room burst into laughter. "..and take my leave. I'll miss you all. Thanks."

The amount of applause was almost unbearable as she stepped down from the crate and hugged the nearest people, enjoying this moment of happiness.

--

Michael

It was still drizzling when they came out of the building. Sara and Katie, side by side, carrying boxes that contained personal belongings. He could easily distinct the origami rose he had given her on her birthday at the top of the pile. The very sight made his heartbeat quicken.

He walked over to the fence, hoping his venture would go unnoticed, yet knowing that nothing went by unseen in this place. One by one, they came to stand next to him, the men that he would be escaping with in a few days.

It was the most despicable of them all that first breached the subject. "The doctor is leavin'?"

Michael nodded sadly. "So it would seem." His voice sounded calmer then he was feeling, which he was grateful for. It was a sign that he'd be able to hold himself together.

Until they met again.

* * *

_Please tell me what you think? Please review?_

_Xo, as always_


	15. Steal my heart and run

**A/N : You guys, I'm sorry it took me this long, but I have a final paper due at the end of the week and am really really working on it. I did, however, manage to write this (late at night). It's rather short, and sort of an 'in-between' chapter. But I really really hope you like it anyway.**

**Please let me know? I promise to post the next chapter asap.**

**Xo, as always**

**

* * *

**

_Give me just one part of you to cling to  
__and keep me everywhere you are_

_It's just enough to steal my heart and run  
__and fade out with the falling sun._

_(Mindy Smith)_

* * *

Sara

The plane rose above the clouds, exposing them to the orange light of the setting sun, framing the whiteness perfectly, making it glow. She touched her fingers to the glass that seperated her from the sky and shivered at the coldness they encountered. A quick glance to her right told her that Veronica and LJ had fallen asleep, his head resting against her shoulder.

Sara sighed. She wished she could say the same for her. The plane ride would be unbearable if she didn't find a way to fall into a deep, comforting sleep – she knew that. But there was something keeping her from sleep : the image of Michael, laying awake in his cell, his eyes cast upwards, looking at the picture she had sent him. God, Portugal seemed like a lifetime ago. _Had her life really changed this intensely in a few weeks?_ She wouldn't give it back for the world, but wished that they hadn't lost the time they had. She shook her head. No, she was wrong about that. They had needed to go through all of it, before they could be together. They had needed to become the people they were right now.

She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes, praying for sleep to come. Slowly, but steadily, the soft music on her iPod lulled her into sleep.

-

India wasn't at all like she remembered. When she had first come here, over three years ago, the screaming of the traffic had seemed exciting to her, it had quickened her pulse. All the adventure that had awaited her had been exhilirating. Stepping into the sunlight, today, she wanted to crawl into a small cave and shelter herself from the crowd.

She never let it show. Giving Veronica and LJ a feeble smile, she stepped out onto the pavement and arranged a taxi to take them to the orphanage. The man politely smiled at her before gesturing for them to get in.

Veronica grinned at her, loading bag after bag into the taxi's trunk. They'd packed up their entire life to run away. To start again.

LJ had already slid into the backseat, needing to be alone for a minute or two. The women understood. He was still a teenager, afraid that his dad would get executed any minute. If Michael's plan failed, Lincoln would die. There was no second chance. _There was no second chance._ Sara shook her head to erase the thought from her mind and exhaled heavily. Michael was still safe for the time being. That was enough.

Buster barked by her side. She smiled down at him, remembering the overwhelming feeling of gladness she had once again felt when they brought him to her. There was no way that she would have left him, not now that they needed each other more than ever. She eagerly pat his back. "It's okay, buddy. We're here now."

-

Michael

He glanced at the clock. It was a habit he had picked up over the past few weeks, eagerly awaiting his doctor's appointment. Today, every single time he watched the hands move further and further, an ache shot through his chest. She wouldn't be there today.

Sucre looked at him sympathetically when the guard finally came along to guide him towards the infirmary. He sighed inwardly. As if he hadn't memorized the way there. When he walked through the doors and sat down in front of Katie, he immediately noticed her eyes were sad. She looked at him, and a silent understanding passed between the two of them. It wasn't more than a split second, but in that moment, they knew exactly what the other one was thinking. Not saying a word, she quietly gave him his shot and motioned for him that it was okay to leave.

The hours defied him. They brought the day of the escape closer and closer. The fear of not succeeding gripped him every night. At least Sara would be okay in India. He touched his fingertips to the picture, longing to be next to her. It wouldn't be long, now.

Sara

Her feet thudded on the dirt road, a calm rhythm to soothe her. It was insane, but she had deluded herself into thinking that if she could steady her breathing, control the rolling thunder of her sneakers on the sand, that he would be okay. That the escape would be successful, and that soon he would be able to draw her into his arms. Everything would be over.

At this very moment, he was breaking out of a maximum security prison on the other side of the world. He would escape the perimeters and hide in the surrounding forest for a while, waiting for the sirens to be heard. The little group of fugitives would get to a small airstrip, where a plane would be waiting for them. They would drug Abruzzi, buckle their seatbelts and take off.

_Or they would be caught._ Her breathing sped up, but she managed to swallow the fear back. She stopped and looked out at the skyline. It was early morning in India, and the city had not yet woken up. She had snuck out of the room she shared with Veronica and LJ (who had the _cutest_ little snore) and let a note that she had gone running. Buster had immediately followed her out.

Veronica wouldn't have approved. She would have told Sara that it was dangerous, that they needed to be careful and not do anything rash. Sara smiled at the trees, the early dawn casting light on their leaves. Veronica was the rational one. The practical one.

Sara just needed to run. Run until her feet were numb, until her mind was blank. Run until her heart stopped aching.

-

When she got back home, the both of them were up. Sitting opposite eachother at the breakfast table, they glared at Sara when she came in.

"What?" she defended herself.

"You know _damn_ well 'what'." Veronica grumbled at her. "I was worried sick when I woke up and you weren't there."

Sara shrugged, taking a bottle of water from the refrigerator and gulping it down. "I left a note."

Suddenly, Veronica's face cleared. "It's funny. This scenario is very reminiscent of when I used to come home early in the morning and my mother would sit at the kitchen table in her robe."

"_You_ were gone all night?" LJ looked at her sceptically. "You look _way_ too responsible to do something like that."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, I was. It was your father and Michael who kept me up all night." She immediately fell silent, but couldn't keep a small smile from getting out. "They used to get me in all sorts of trouble."

Sara smiled. "I'll bet."

"Tell me." It was a whisper. LJ looked at Veronica, tears forming in his eyes. Veronica gently laid her hand on his and gave it a squeeze. She drew in a breath before starting on a story from when she was seventeen, and Michael and Lincoln had convinced her to do karaoke.

One story after another followed and soon all of them felt at ease. There was something liberating about bringing up a past with the brothers in it. It kept their minds from wandering to the anxiety they were dealing with now.

They tensed when a cellphone started to ring, cutting through the fifth anecdote. Sara stood and felt her feet falter when she ran to answer it. She could hardly keep herself upright and thankfully fell back on her bed, her hand reaching for the phone.

"Hello?"

"_Sara. It's me."_

* * *

_Ok, so what did you think? Please tell me you like it? Please? If you don't, I'll try to rewrite it!_

_Xo, as always_


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